The man was hurt - and it was painfully obvious with his reaction to the softly-spoken question of the former Lord, averting his gaze, unable to keep looking into grey hues. Distracting himself with the bowl Karl has placed next to the bed - picking it up to bring it over to where the rest of the dishes were waiting, close to the door.
A month. Maybe two.
Heisenberg assumed that many more could have passed by - that it was hard for Ethan to get a grasp on how many days and weeks he’d really existed since everything had happened between him and the forsaken Village.
… For the engineer himself, it certainly didn’t feel like fucking months. He’d died, and then… there had been nothing. Felt like a fucking blink of an eye, as if he’d just decided to take a goddamn nap in the middle of a fight just to be awoken about a minute later.
Though, these moments where there’d been nothing else besides pain and that gruesome, disgusting shift of bones and flesh, patching himself back together, it had felt like it went on and on for a fucking eternity before… well, this. Before he’d taken his first breath and realized that he’d been brought back to life.
A sigh escaped him, gaze dropping to the thin bed sheet that was covering him from the waist down - made of cheap material, had seen better days, like the rest of this shack they used for shelter. His legs were even visible through the damn fabric - and Heisenberg wondered how the younger had survived those cold, harsh winter nights with nothing but an old oven, this sorry excuse of a blanket and his makeshift clothing?
It reminded Karl of how cold it really was - even with that fire burning away, freezing temperatures started to eat away on his arms, his back, his chest and neck, picking on his skin - a fresh breeze trailing along his shoulders, causing goosebumps to spread over his upper body.
Just when the blond returned with a stack of… clothing. Obviously self-made, stitched together to make it all end up in a shirt and a pair of pants, and Heisenberg was equally as sceptical as he was impressed by the man’s skill. Sure, one could see he’d never really done such things before, but it told so much about that fight that was still lingering within him, that bite that the engineer had gotten to know of before they’d faced that bitch in an attempt to kill her while saving Winters’ daughter.
He let his gaze snap up to the blond’s face as he carefully took the offered garments into his hands, noticing the way his eyes had significantly reddened, but wouldn’t comment on it. As crude as Heisenberg was when it came to social interactions - he could still tell when it would be better to not let something slip past his lips, and he really did not want to hurt Ethan even further.
He was suffering, and Karl knew very well how it felt to suffer.
“You’re skilled, Ethan. I didn’t expect… ----well, honestly, I didn’t expect much from you, but here you are. Tells a lot.”
It did.
That man was a fighter.
A survivor.
Even with everything that had happened, he was still here, still continuing to walk along that path he had been forced to take.
Even without Rose.
Wherever she was right now.
Caused the iron Lord to swallow thickly - hoping that it had been worth it, at least. That the kid was safe, and hadn’t…
… Another thing he surely wouldn’t dare to speak about at this moment of time. He could wait for whenever the young man was ready to talk about it.
If he ever decided to share such personal information with him.
After a few moments of hesitating, simply looking at the other, Heisenberg finally forced himself to tear his gaze away from those hazel hues - pulling that shirt over his head, slipping into the pair of pants beneath that thin bed sheet. It didn’t fit perfectly, but it would do.
“... Already missin’ my goddamn clothes…”
Oh, that he did. With a smile stretching along his features, Karl allowed himself to chuckle - winking at the blond as he rolled his shoulders, trying to get comfortable with what was given to him.
“Sucks that morphin’ into my horrible monster-self causes my shit to get shredded to fuckin’ pieces. … There’s always a downside to everythin’, huh?”
Tomorrow, when the sun was illuminating the remains of that shithole of a Village, Heisenberg would definitely try to make himself useful. Maybe he would be able to find more stuff somewhere around that damn crater Winters’ had spoken about, something that would help them to handle everything a bit better - his powers should still be around, right?
… Were they?
Was the Cadou still resting inside his chest?
It should be.
Had been there back when Miranda had killed and brought him back, just to teach him a valuable lesson.
He wanted to give it a try, grey hues scanning their surroundings for a second or two as he tried to focus, taking a sharp breath through his nostrils…
… The pot at the door started to vibrate, as it seemed to be made of metal. It was wobbling back and forth, hovering an inch above the ground before it fell back down with the former Lord exhaling - this was much harder than he’d expected it to be. Feeling a bead of sweat running down his temple, which he wiped away with the back of his hand.
Good.
It was still there.
But god damn, he was fucking weak…
… And tired.
“Suppose we both could need a bit of rest, huh?”, he asked then, softly, as his eyes trailed back to look up at Ethan.
...I didn’t expect much from you, but here you are...
A sudden scoff whipped from his mouth.
“Yeah. Well, it’s not for wanting to be.” His tone was far more bitter than he intended. Somehow, even though he felt exhausted and hateful and hurt, Ethan didn’t want to take it out on Heisenberg. How could he after they had fought so tirelessly together to kill Miranda? But it was hard to reign back the nasty bite. After months of silence and being unable to even talk to someone out loud about any of this, emotions were difficult to control.
Ethan was both happy for the praise, and irritated. None of his most recent skills would ever have honed were it not for that damned mold, for Miranda and her cruel experiments. In time he supposed he could get used to the idea that his commitment to existence forced him to have a diverse skill set. But for now it was a festering wound. Survival wasn’t fun or pretty and it was only to keep from being wholly uncomfortable that Ethan tried as hard as he did.
Their eye contact broke and as Heisenberg moved to dress himself, Ethan stared into his lap. There would be no real privacy in the shack but Ethan tried his best to offer what he could. Sure, he’d seen the man’s body without clothing. After all, he bathed Heisenberg to make sure his skin wasn’t gross from the rebirthing process. But it was different when the man was awake.
Rustling ceased and the blond looked back up. The clothes seemed to fit Heisenberg well enough and it made Ethan feel happy that he wouldn’t have to alter it too much. Hell, it made him happy the damned outfit fit at all. It was a lot of laying cloth out on an unconscious Heisenberg and eyeballing measurements in shitty lighting. He allowed himself to feel a spark of pride and he even laughed at the other man’s comment, laughed with him. Up until his last comment. Ethan’s features softened as the smile dropped from his face.
“I’m hard-pressed to find anything other than downsides.” Quite literally Ethan wouldn’t have been in this mess at all were it not for Miranda’s bullshit. He tried not to dwell on the thought. He was exhausted enough without letting another bout of hate course through him; he’d spent plenty of time doing that already.
Ethan cocked a brow at the other man when it seemed like he was no longer paying attention. He even followed Heisenberg’s gaze over towards where his pot sat upon the floor. When it started to hover and shiver, Ethan felt hope grow inside of him. If this was what Heisenberg could do now after having just woken up, then there would be no stopping how quickly his powers would grow over time.
He turned his head back around after the pot fell back down to the ground. The hint of a smile lingered on his lips. It was hard not to feel a little hopeful. In this fucking crater of death and disappointment, Ethan would soak up the little things like a sponge.
As if Heisenberg’s question was the magic phrase, Ethan felt a new wave of exhaustion rip through him. The man was perpetually tired.
Ethan nodded and stretched as he moved himself off the chair and onto the floor next to the bed. A mangled pillow had been tucked underneath of the bed’s frame. Ethan slid it out while he sat cross-legged. The floor was cold and the blond hoped that the warmth of the stove would be enough for the night. A thin sheet was also tucked under the bed, a ratty thing that was a tad too small. Ethan always had to choose what part of his body he wanted more exposed than the other. Almost always he chose to cover his feet.
