your own prometheus 💉
CHAPTER TWELVE heavy eyes been watching me | AO3
albeit shorter than my usual chapter updates, very VERY proud that i got this finished in time for the special day. happy october...
to all who celebrate💚 not only am i excited to get the update done on the special deadline, but to finally have the slow burn catch some fire in ways i've been scheming hard on.
SFW | Word Count: 2,260 | Herbert West x GN Reader x Daniel Cain ⬅ continued from talking to me as if you knew me ➡ continued in can't go on thinking nothing's wrong
Somehow, there was better sleep this week than last. You didn’t know if it came from complacency, a better understanding of what was happening within the walls of your home, or less coffee and nights spent in nerve-addled pacing; but you also didn’t complain about being able to get your hours in without closing the vents or shoving pillows against your head.
The arguing between Dan and Herbert was still here and there, and the ominous sounds were still present (sometimes more during the afternoon now that there were less skeletons that needed to stay in the closet), but it was…home, as you had called it. It was the recognition that you were beginning to cozy up beside it all made you crinkle your nose, still driving home after a long day and instead focusing on rolling your ankle that wasn’t on the gas pedal.
What you did have to complain about was a police car settled unapologetically outside of said home as you pulled up, eyes locked to the windshield as you put it in park. Immediate hopes that there was something chaste going on with the other two made you hitch your breath as you opened the car door. Standing up slowly, you gave the cruiser a sharp glance as you gathered your coat from the passenger seat. Looking back towards the house, the door to the other car opened as well.
“Officer.” You greeted, the warmth you pasted to your tone as store-bought and plastic as a cake from the local supermarket made by a tired twenty-something. He stood toe to toe with you, smiling in a rare bout of closed lips at you. “[Hot shot/Hot cakes.]”
“On another stakeout mission for grave robbers?” You asked, looking across the street as you stood at the front of the driveway. He paced around the police car, and asked, “Do you have a moment, [Y/N]?”
Do you have a warrant? You turned back around, hands clenched under the cover of the light coat in your arms as you replied, “Sure. For what?”
“Chapham’s orders, if you believe it. You see-“ He explained casually, and you were hoping someone would see you from the window, help you out of the pickle as you listened, “His wife was admitted to the psychological unit in Miskatonic awhile back. Long before our…current predicaments, aside from what I’ve been keeping my eye out for. Stark mad, delusional up until her untimely slip in the kitchen, as the report states…and she was supposedly brain dead up until about six hours after she was admitted for injuries. See, that was when she woke up, screaming, flailing…she was alive.”
He looked expectantly at you, and you cocked your head to one side, an ear in confusion facing him now.
“Dr. West was in the wing the night she was…seemingly…” He chuckled, hands coming up in a shrug, “Resurrected from a vegetative state.” You furrowed your brow, and he then promptly asked, “May I come in and speak to the doctor about this incident? We just can’t seem to figure out how else this could’ve happened, and you can imagine how heavy this case has become from laying dormant over everyone involved. Can’t you?”
You hummed pensively, turning up the driveway and walking to the front door. “Sure, I can imagine that, sir. Would you…mind waiting while I-“
“Made yourself decent?” He teased, and you choked out with a fake laugh, “Funny. But sure, just a minute and he’ll be out with you.”
Closing the door promptly, you threw your coat onto the couch. Beeline for the hall, you looked towards the door leading to the basement. “Herbert! Dan!” You squawked out, then turned your head just as promptly to peer into the kitchen.
They were standing together, an unmistakable connection at both the hips and the mouths by the sink. Pulling off each other quickly at the notion of another voice, Herbert turned with a look of shock. Dan was a little more lost in a dying moment, staring vacantly with a still half-open jaw as the shorter man grumbled, “Oh, [L/N]. Now what!?”
“Dyer’s here.” You murmured, eyes staring just as desolately ahead as you tried to ignore what you had seen. Hearing it was one thing, but to witness the walking proof was now coming at you from the other side of things.
“Really?” Herbert was catching his breath, Dan now standing straight and gasping, “Police? Here?” You looked at him, head turned to the side and a little ruffled as you murmured, “That’s what I said.”
“What for?” Herbert asked, closing distance between you fast, “What did you-?”
“Nuh-“ You spit the word out in a two syllable manner, teeth bared, “thing.”
In the tense silence, you looked down the hallway and tried to take a breath. It was cut off by another demand. “Well, speak to him.” Herbert’s tone had gone back to a bargain, “You seem to satiate whatever interest he has just fine without the need of either of us.”
“He’s asking for you,” You informed him, “Something about an officer’s wife.”
“What?” Dan stammered, looking down at the top of Herbert’s head as he made a dry expression at the thought. You then prodded in frustration, “How long have you two been doing this to people, exactly?”
“As many times as we need to.” Herbert uttered as he passed you, but when he walked by he took hold of your shirt and murmured much quieter now as you reluctantly followed the motion. “Go by my lead and keep this pig at bay.” You turned to face the front door, looking back at Dan for him to follow. That he did, eyes locked ahead in pure, cold anxiety.
You opened the door, faking the belief to hopefully emanate the same cozy feeling you had gotten from the walls onto the officer. “There they are.” Dyer chuckled, looking to Herbert. “Dr. West, nice to make your acquaintance again.”
“I’m told you have questions.” Herbert skipped the greeting, making you swallow slightly and look to a corner of the room to avoid a physical cringe. He cleared his throat, “Courier’s word got to you fast, did it?”
“It’s [his/her/their] job to be quick with it.” Herbert retorted, and Dyer’s smile flinched down. “Sure is.”
You felt Dan standing behind you, a hand even coming up to squeeze your arm when he saw you roll your shoulders a little, staring on at the exchange with discomfort but trying to smile through it.
“I’ve come to ask you a few questions about a Violet Chapman, the police chief’s wife that was admitted during your shift on September the thirteenth, just about a month ago, is it?”
You glanced at the calendar hanging over the TV, eyebrows bouncing at the recognition a month had gone by under your nose. This time last month, you were…so clueless to everything. Still was, but just enough to not lose your entire mind every other day with the true nature of what was going on.
“I just find it peculiar, Dr. West. First, that stint in 1985, and now another half-completed autopsy where a woman just-“ Dyer rose his hands, fingers popping out in expression, “Sprung back to life while you were working in the wing.” He looked to you now for some sort of gang up on the guy, your eyes staring up and your chin remaining tucked down. “I recommend taking better looks at it when perusing those records you can’t seem to get enough of, [Y/N].” You smiled through closed lips, nodding at him wordlessly. He glanced for a beat at Dan, then asked, “You know who’s death records are even more enticing?”
“Who?” You dared to ask.
“…Megan Halsey’s.” He spoke delicately, and the hand on your arm froze, then fell away as your eyes stopped darting around; you wished you could force him back out the front door with just your glance through the center of his stupid face. “There are rumors she died twice, much like…a lot of other individuals on that night, but I digress. Just…all these strange coincidences I can’t seem to pin down.”
“What does Miss Halsey have to do with the Chapham case, officer?” You asked, and he shrugged at you with the same closed mouth smile you had given him.
“I think…” Herbert breathed out, “You need to leave, officer.”
Your lips were sealed again, and the officer’s cocky expression twitched in irritation. “Well, you three seem to still have some reservations to a case that’s concerning far more people than we usually allow before…getting warrants.”
“I’m glad you’ve finally brought that up. Do you have one that permits any more of this questioning?” Herbert quickly asked, and your hand was now sneaking to hold Dan’s from behind your back, standing in front of the man almost defensively. He squeezed back, eyes down on the floor but a little purse of the lips to show he was fond to comfort.
Dyer was turned towards West, and he leaned in slightly as he crooned, “Oh. Do I need to get one, my liege?” You squeezed again as Herbert merely observed, “There’s no reason for you to be questioning us with such pointed blame right now. I had nothing to do with the anomalous behavior.”
His brow drawn down, he looked at you. Dried tongue spat out with another fake smile, “If we have anything that we know about the night of Mrs. Chapham’s incident, we’ll let you know.” He narrowed his eyes at you, Herbert’s owlish stare following as you refused to flinch or fawn to either of them.
“Alright. Alright, you three…” The cop stood straight, turning to leave again as he chided, “I’ll leave you to whatever dinner plans I seem to be walking in on.” He gestured to the apron Dan was still wearing, something you now noticed with a lack of spots or gore much to your relief. He then asked you, “Your wife make a nice meal?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked back, and he smiled at you with that hideous tooth glinting. “Kidding, kidding...”
He left as sharply as he had entered. The door shut, and you remained stock still as the officer lingered by the porch, but then finally retreated towards the cruiser. You were mortified, ignoring the look from both Dan and Herbert until the engine rumbled to life and started outside the curtained windows.
Eyes shifting back to the man in front of you, he was about to lambast you again before you beat him to the floor. “Was there a problem with anything I said?”
Herbert started to shake his head at you, but you let go of Dan’s hand and approached with careful steps. “Are you going to let me help keep this project safe?” You let it out, agitation making you a human motor as the hand in yours growing less adamant to slip out of yours while you spoke, “I want to see that guy run through the goddamn mud if he’s going to be coming and sitting outside our hous-The house we share, and I don’t really understand all of what is going on with…” You stuttered again, but then almost found the word rabidly, “Re-animation, resurrection, whatever you’re going to call it. But I do know what this means as a whole, and this could be…great.” You spoke the belief further into what you wanted to be rather than what it was, smiling with a shake of your head. “This could be great after everyone stops preventing what you’re doing. It’s rough, sure, but…It’s lively.”
Wording was sloppy, but to put it together why you couldn’t merely look away from it all, to realize the respect and need that came when faced with the terrors of the experiments happening in the house…it was why you could sleep. You were fathoming it faster than you could feasibly control yourself, speaking like a gun was to your head to finally lay out your opinion in the open.
Stopping yourself again, waiting for a criticism from the man, you saw nothing but a glimmer behind the wire-framed glasses, his jaw slacked for once and almost hanging slightly. To see him bewildered was, much like the strange streaks of kindness painted over you from time to time, foreign. You swallowed your confidence, and then asked him, “What are you thinking right now?”
“I think that you see past the house of cards built by common folk … The picture as a whole of this experiment.” Herbert gawked, eyes downcast before coming back up to yours. It was almost overwhelming, and your smile faltered.
You turned away from both of them, and started walking towards the kitchen, shaking off the nerves from speaking and taking a sharp breath. Dan turned to watch your direction, and when he saw you pass the walkway he gasped.
“[Y/N], don’t-!” He choked again as soon as he had spoken, and when you cocked your head and gave him a curious stare over one shoulder, he cracked like an egg. “Don’t look in the sink.”
You stayed put, then made a beeline on your original course. Dan winced as you gasped loudly, “AWH, DAN! WHAT IS THIS!?”
“Today’s attempt in rejuvenating a seventy-year-old organ. So far, unsuccessful.” Herbert replied, wringing his hands slightly with a charmed smirk. "Still deciding if it's the age of the tissue, or my reagent's potency."
“...Lungs. Those are lungs, [Y/N].” Dan clarified with a hand over his eyes.
