Chapter Text
“We are not just afraid of predators; we are transfixed by them. We weave stories and fables and chatter endlessly about them because fascination creates preparedness, and preparedness, survival. In a deeply tribal sense, we love our monsters.” – Edward O. Wilson
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Leona looked so weak, so damnably weak, just lying there. She was as pale as death – her skin cold and her features ossified. She could easily pass for a statue carved from pure alabaster. And every breath she took appeared to be labored – as if some unseen weight overburdened her chest. A wave of numbness ran through your body at the sight, and you forced yourself to look away, not liking the thoughts it conjured up. Experiencing it once was enough for you – enough for everyone.
There was a smell of blood throughout the room; a heavy smell, honeyed and metallic, clinging to your nostrils and filling your lungs. You sat across from Leona’s bed with your arm offered up to Donna as she gently removed the needle from it – collecting a third blood bag. She had taken special care with bandaging your limb, and although it was completely unnecessary, you allowed it, relishing the tenderness shown. Her nimble fingers worked your sleeve down before grasping your hand and giving it a comforting squeeze. As Donna moved to connect the newly filled bag to Leona’s intravenous line, your eyes drifted over to Alcina. She sat in a large leather divan beside you – Theodora fast asleep in her arms – with the girls gathered around, sweetly cooing down at the infant. You sighed contentedly, grateful for the calmness that fell over the castle and all those in it.
Alcina, in particular, was in a much calmer state than when you first presented Leona’s lifeless body – a body bloodied and unexpectedly heavy in your arms. Her eyes, luminous as they were merciless at times, swam with indescribable pain when you explained what happened. You’ve never seen her so broken – only ever exuding absolute power and control – fortified by indisputable strength and cunning. Treating her vulnerability as though it were a chink in her armor, you learned early on that Alcina masked her emotions well. Too well at times.
At first, she blamed herself, then the careless maid assigned to Leona, she blamed Heisenberg for being notably absent, then back to herself, before finally placing blame on Miranda – but you wondered if, deep down, she secretly blamed you as well. After all, wherever you went, death always followed closely behind.
A family curse, you were sure of it, at this point.
You could remember, for several agonizing minutes, Alcina and Donna debated amongst themselves on what to do next. The Cadou was certainly an option – not a stable or ethical one – but an option nonetheless. It wouldn’t be the first time the parasite took to a person whose heart ceased beating long ago – Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela were prime examples of such a remarkable feat – however, there was no telling what would become of Leona. Successful experiments often faced a replication crisis, and so you offered up your own blood instead – as much as Leona needed. It was obvious from the beginning that you were cast from an entirely different mold. Viable and potent, as Donna once commented during one of her many tests. It was a gamble – one you desperately hoped would pay off with minimal mutations or drawbacks. Fortunately, it was enough to get Leona’s heart beating again, but she still looked so damn weak – trapped in an endless sleep that you were powerless to save her from.
It hurt deeply to see her reduced to this, yet there was a sliver of hope that you would soon hear the sweetness of her laugh, feel the warmth of her presence, and witness the fire in her eyes spark anew.
All she needed to do was wake up and rejoin the land of the living.
Looking over your shoulder, you noticed Salvatore hunched over in the corner with a blanket draped over him. Familiar eyes met yours, but he was different – transformed, so to speak. His skin, once grey and covered in tumor-like sores, was now regaining a healthy complexion, free of the oozing masses, although sadly – it had lost most of its elasticity – hanging loosely on his face and neck. He was thin and drawn, and his spine still curved from the weight he had carried for decades, but there was a renewed fire in him. You could see it in his too-bright, beady eyes. He smiled warmly, displaying decayed, broken teeth – and for the first time since meeting – he genuinely looked happy. No longer the docile, fearful Lord he once was, but Salvatore Moreau, a free man. Free from the body that once held him prisoner, free from the torment and nightmares that haunted him for years, and finally free from Miranda’s control.
Standing, you made your way toward Salvatore – feeling Alcina’s curious gaze as you moved swiftly and quietly to the back of the room. You took one of his discolored hands in your own and knelt in front of the reformed man, chuckling when you heard the slight uptick in his heartbeat.
“Do I still make you uneasy, Sal?” you asked, biting back a smile. Your tone was playful and light, in spite of the somber atmosphere. “After all this time?”
He gave a bark of anxious laughter, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “J-just a bit, my Lady.”
“Prudence,” you gently corrected him, leaning in closer. “How are you feeling, my sweet friend?”
Salvatore shifted in his seat and looked down at your joined hands. His brows furrowed, and for a minute, he looked deep in thought. You waited patiently for an answer, fully aware of the terrifying ordeal he recently went through. A metamorphosis like this was undoubtedly a painful one.
The silence ticked by slowly, expressing the depth of his reflection.
“Like I am dreaming,” he finally rasped, slowly raising his head and meeting your gaze. “At first, there was pain…s-so much pain I couldn’t bear it. Then, there was nothing. I must have slept, though never remembered closing my eyes. There was no pain, no memory, no voices, o-only darkness. It felt empty and cold…I felt empty and c-c-cold.” Salvatore’s thumb swept over the back of your hand, and his eyes welled with tears. He swallowed and blinked a few times, allowing the tears to stream down his gaunt cheeks. “Then… I saw her. I heard her voice asking me to follow. She was like a light, leading me out of the dark. I can’t fully explain it.”
“Who?” you asked, a bit puzzled and concerned. “Who did you see?”
With his quivering jaw, Salvatore motioned toward the sleeping infant. His eyes lingered on her for a good while, contemplating. “I died, didn’t I?” The words tumbled out desperately.
Ever so delicately, you reached up with your free hand and wiped away his remaining tears. It was an odd show of affection, especially from you, but the moment called for comfort.
You held a long breath before replying, mindful of his delicate state. “Yes,” you answered in a whisper, “but only for a short while.”
Salvatore was silent, but you could see the uncertainty in his eyes. Yes, he had been given a second chance at life, but the strange experience reminded him of his newfound mortality. A fact that did not easily escape you either.
“You know, I always imagined death was a lot like falling asleep and slipping into a dream so vivid and warm, that it would feel like one long, loving embrace,” you continued, meaning to sound somewhat reassuring, but couldn’t read the thoughts that hid behind his dejected face and tightened lips. “Weightless. Floating. Drifting. Yet, keenly aware of everything around you. Perhaps a familiar face or two along the way. Maybe even a cliché white light, beckoning...guiding. And death…death is simply an old friend welcoming you home after your long journey. A part of me still believes that.”
Salvatore’s eyes were glazed pools of sorrow when he looked at you. “Mother Miranda once promised us that we would never know death if we followed her,” he said solemnly, “but now –”
“To be alive and to live are two entirely separate things,” you interrupted. “Now…you are free to live your life how you see fit, Sal. You do not need to follow her or anyone else ever again. This life is yours, even if it ultimately ends in death.”
A long moment passed in silence – as if Salvatore was weighing a response. “I was never beautiful,” he suddenly said, catching you off guard with the statement. “I was never strong, fast, or perfect. Never perfect.” He stared at the ground and shuffled his feet, frowning. “She never loved me, did she? She only wanted to take from me and leave me with…nothingness. An empty pit to fill with her lies, to mold into her vessel, no, her puppet. I was never worthy enough to be a vessel. How could a failed experiment ever be worthy of her favor? Of her love?”
You weren’t expecting him to speak with such steady conviction. Not once did he stumble over his words. Not once did he seem unsure of his feelings.
“You will always be more than just her experiment,” you said firmly. “You will heal from this. Even if it doesn’t feel like it right now, things will get better.”
Salvatore cocked his head sideways, his eyes locking with yours. “Do you really believe that? Do you b-believe it will ever end, Prudence? That we will finally know what peace is?”
Words failed you for a moment, but then, something the Duke once said came to your mind. “Death is peace…” you trailed off, following Salvatore’s troubled gaze. What he saw made him gasp, and a sickening feeling settled in the pit of your stomach – coiling almost painfully.
Looking down, you noticed the veins covering your hands and arms – halfway to the elbows – were surging with black mold.
“Life is hardship,” you finished hauntingly. The statement was punctuated by loud growling – coming from your abdomen.
It was always hungry. More than hungry: ravenous. It was difficult to control – even when satisfied. It was nothing more than a shadow, a voice – with no teeth or claws to tear and seize. No tongue to taste the flesh and blood it so urgently craved. No eyes to witness the butchery. No ears to hear the cries and screams. No physical form – only hunger.
You’ve been starving it. Keeping your stomach filled while ensuring its own stomach remained empty. However, the need to devour often made your vision hazy and saliva would form in the back of your throat until it spilled over your chin. The hunger would push you to the dark corners of your mind, whispering and tasting your thoughts as it twisted and corrupted your reality. In those moments, you truly felt more beast than human.
The sound of your protesting stomach jolted you from your thoughts.
Just then, you noticed a strange look wash over Salvatore’s face, and panic leaked into his voice when he spoke. “Prudence –”
“I am fine,” you quickly reassured him as you yanked your hand free from his. “Everything is fine. Don’t worry, this…happens sometimes.”
More often than you cared to admit.
Before Salvatore could speak again, the door swung open and slammed against the wall violently. The sound echoed through the room, waking Theodora and causing the infant to wail. Your attention was solely on Heisenberg as he rushed to Leona’s bedside, instantly forgetting about the poison rushing through your bloodstream.
“What happened?” he nearly roared, whipping around. His eyes landed on you – blazed red and malevolent – smoldering with suspicion. A lesser huntress would have cowered in fear, but you held your ground, rising from your kneeling position. You squared your shoulders and held your head high, steadying your breathing.
Alcina immediately stood, her arm bouncing gently in an attempt to soothe the crying infant. In a few long strides, she positioned herself beside you.
“Your anger is misplaced,” she warned, wrapping her other arm around your shoulders protectively. “Prudence defended Leona and your daughter. A little gratitude would be the appropriate response from you at this moment.”
“You promised she would be safe here,” Heisenberg seethed, taking a menacing step forward. “Where were you?”
Alcina scoffed. “I could ask the same of you,” she said, narrowing her eyes dangerously as he moved closer. “For your daughter’s sake, Karl, I suggest you choose your next words carefully.”
“Mother Miranda created a diversion,” Bela explained hurriedly, noticing her mother’s restraint beginning to falter.
“And we fell for it,” Cassandra added scornfully and with a sour expression. Her ego was as bruised as yours, it seemed. “She had been biding her time. Plotting.”
“For the right moment,” Daniela concluded, her eyes darting to the infant in her mother’s arm.
Heisenberg’s gaze softened before he turned back to his unconscious beloved. He watched her chest rise and fall with shallow breaths – his expression startlingly unreadable. Pointing to the blood bag, he addressed Donna. “What is that?”
“A blood transfusion,” she replied calmly, exchanging a worried glance with Alcina.
“Whose blood?” he asked testily, glancing around the room.
A long silence stretched. No one spoke. No one moved.
Heisenberg pressed his lips together when he received no answer. “Whose?”
He was met with further silence. Then: “Whose!”
The anger burned the grief and guilt from you. “Mine.” You spat out the response, defiant against his temper. “The blood…is mine.”
The tendons in his neck stood taunt, like steel cords. “Have you lost your fucking mind?” Heisenberg growled, reaching for the intravenous line.
With surprisingly quick reflexes, Donna caught his arm and shoved it away. “It is keeping her alive, you fool!” she hissed fiercely.
“We have no idea what it will do to her,” he argued, albeit much weaker this time.
“Does it truly matter?” Donna whispered as her eyes raked over Leona’s body. “She is stable now, thanks to Prudence’s blood. Removing it might very well be a death sentence. Is that what you want?”
Heisenberg turned in your direction with a hard, appraising stare – one that could knock someone flat. Yet, you stood tall, meeting his gaze with equal intensity.
“No.” His voice was grudging, but he relented.
The brief – but tense – staredown was broken by the soft clicking of Alcina’s heels as she ambled over to Heisenberg. You watched as she leaned forward, presenting Theodora proudly as if she were her own flesh and blood. The infant looked up at her father with steel-grey eyes filled with curiosity and wonder – eyes innocent of understanding. Unfortunately, Heisenberg’s eyes didn’t hold the same fondness, and he made no move to grab his daughter.
Alcina reeled back, her jaw setting tightly once she recovered from the momentary shock. “Don’t be impertinent, Heisenberg,” she chastised sharply. “She is your daughter regardless of how she entered this world. Here, take her.”
There was a long pause, and still, he made no move to hold the infant.
Alcina’s mouth set grimly, and she narrowed her eyes once again. There was nothing more imposing or intimidating than your angered lover. Heisenberg was noticeably discomfited but remained stubborn in his decision.
And they say you are the one who lacks self-preservation.
In hopes of defusing the situation, you made a feverish dash over, and with a small smile, you extended your arms. With care, Alcina placed Theodora in your welcoming embrace before shooting an icy glare Heisenberg’s way – who only grunted in response to her displeasure.
“May I speak with him alone?” you asked, holding the infant close to your chest.
Alcina glanced fleetingly at Heisenberg and then at you. “Are you sure I can’t stay with you?”
She was hesitant to leave you alone with him. It was not explicitly voiced, but you could sense her unease.
“I’ll be fine, my love,” you reassured her, managing another small smile. “I’ve faced much worse.”
Exhaling deeply, Alcina conceded with a nod. “Come along,” she called to the girls and Donna. “You as well, Salvatore. Perhaps we can find you some suitable clothing. Can’t have you walking around my castle draped in a tattered blanket.”
It took Heisenberg a few seconds to realize who the hunched human in the corner was. Choking back emotion, he forced an embarrassed grin to hide his slip of vulnerability. “Almost didn’t recognize you, Sal. You look different. A good kind of different!”
Salvatore beamed at the compliment, waddling a little closer.
“You look strong,” Heisenberg continued, his eyes still wide in disbelief.
A smile bloomed on his face like an open wound. “I feel strong,” Salvatore excitedly proclaimed, affecting an air of casual confidence as he turned toward the door. Your eyes met for the briefest of moments before he looked away and followed the girls out.
Alcina bent down and pressed her lips to your forehead. “I won’t go far,” she murmured against your skin. “If you need me, call for me.” Straightening her back, she ran a gloved finger over Theodora’s cheek. “Keep her safe, my little huntress.”
“I will,” you promised.
With a final glare in Heisenberg’s direction, Alcina turned on her heel, and ever inhumanly smooth and graceful, left the room without a second glance.
As soon as the door shut, Heisenberg broke the silence. “You should have let Alcina take her,” he said in a flat, cold tone.
You shot him a deadly serious look, and lowered your mouth close to the infant’s ear. “Pay him no mind, new blood,” you said, smirking at the sight of his flaring nostrils. “Your father’s bark is much worse than his bite. Trust me.”
“I heard that!” he snapped, dropping into your vacant chair. “I only meant…she shouldn’t be around her mother. Not while she is in this state. I only have her best interest at heart, Prue.” His voice had grown soft.
“Coming from the man who won’t even hold her,” you replied bitterly before taking a seat at the foot of the bed. “You shouldn’t blame Theo –”
“I don’t blame her,” he interrupted, dragging a hand over his face.
“Then why won’t you hold her?” you pressed, attempting to search his avoidant gaze. “She is only a few hours old. She needs her father.”
Heisenberg chuckled, but there was no mirth or warmth behind it.
Just then, as if sensing your growing frustration, Theodora began to cry – suddenly and piercingly. You winced at the high-pitched sound she emitted. Mimicking Alcina’s actions from earlier, you started bouncing the infant gently in hopes of soothing her. This only made it worse.
Heisenberg’s hand flew to his ears, his hearing evidently as sensitive as yours. “Make her stop!”
“I am trying,” you huffed, wondering how this came so naturally to Alcina.
A low growl rumbled deep in his chest. “Try harder, kid,” he said through clenched teeth.
You wanted to curse him but held your tongue – though not without struggle. You instead focused your attention on Theodora. It felt as if your heart had lodged in your throat at the sight of her red, tear-stained cheeks. Admittedly, you regretted not giving the infant to Alcina. She clearly had a mother’s touch – and ample bosom.
“Is it too soon for I told you so?” Heisenberg taunted with a condescending smirk.
“Grow up!” you snapped, irritated by his dismissive attitude. “She doesn’t deserve this.”
Heisenberg sighed. “You’re right,” he admitted hoarsely, allowing his body to slump into the chair. His eyes landed on Leona for a moment, then, he shook his head a little as if to clear it. “Theo deserves so much better than this. She deserves so much better than…me.”
A hush quickly fell over the room; even Theodora went silent, which was baffling. You stared at him, unblinking. Your mouth opened and closed several times, but no words formed. The silence stretched, long and leaden, and you felt the overwhelming need to say something. You were pondering your next words when you felt tiny fingers wrap around your thumb. An unfamiliar feeling spread through your chest. It was warm and dare you say...fuzzy.
Standing, you took a few tentative steps toward Heisenberg. “It’s a powerful thing. Guilt,” you mused, pausing in front of him. “We tend to punish ourselves and those around us because of it.”
With a sharp kick to his boot from you, Heisenberg sat up from his slumped position, and before he could protest, you placed Theodora onto his open chest. Instinctively, his arms wrapped around her small frame. He held her as if she were made of glass – as if she would shatter if he hugged her too tightly.
“There is something very special about her, Heisenberg,” you said in a reverent voice. “I don’t fully understand it myself, but she might be the missing puzzle piece to our plan.”
His face darkened. “I won’t risk bringing her into this mess.”
“We don’t get to decide that,” you said, reaching forward to caress Theodora’s head.
He waited a moment before grunting in agreement. “She has her mother’s nose,” he whispered, absolutely riveted and unable to shake his stare.
You snorted, nodding. “Thank goodness for that, right?”
Heisenberg’s throaty chuckle filled the room, but then, it gradually turned into something closer to a – sob.
You watched as his features crumbled, and several more sobs escaped his throat. He shut his eyes tightly, but it did nothing to stop the flow of tears. His body hunched over as if carrying the weight of his unspoken guilt on his shoulders. Heisenberg cradled his daughter close as his head came to rest on Leona’s thigh.
Placing your hand on top of his back, you stood there, surrounded by the shards of his shattered past, silently grieving with him.
As Heisenberg’s sobs subsided, you decided it might be best to give him space to be with his family. Giving one last comforting rub, you turned and made your way to the door.
When your hand touched the knob, you heard him say something, but it was barely audible at first. “What was that?” you asked, looking over your shoulder.
“Thank you,” Heisenberg said, keeping his back to you.
You smiled softly, even if he couldn’t see it. “You’re welcome.”
Slipping out of the room, you gently closed the door behind you. From the corner of your eye, you could see Alcina’s figure. She crept up quietly, her gaze trained on the door as she worried her bottom lip.
“They’re fine,” you reassure her quickly. “Heisenberg just needs a private moment.”
“Very well,” she said before reaching down and taking hold of your hand. Her eyes traveled up your arm, stopping at your exposed neck. “You have to eat, my love.”
You shook your head. “I am not hungry.”
A lie.
Alcina hummed and dropped your hand. “It wasn’t a request.”
Before you could argue further, she picked you up – effortlessly – and began carrying you back to your shared room.
“This is humiliating,” you huffed in annoyance while looking around for any potential witnesses.
The only sound heard after your statement was Alcina’s rich chuckle echoing down the corridor.