Ethan's heart was racing as it never had. Perhaps, he thought with a hint of levity, it was eager to get rid of him as well. He put his hand over his heart--his hand, his full, healed, left hand.
Just as Ethan was ready to celebrate again, a voice inside his head warned, don't get carried away. Aren't you the one who hates the 'power' dick measuring contest?
Ethan's expression evened a bit at this thought, and Heisenberg canted his head when he saw the other's expression dim. "Performance anxiety?" Karl quizzed, with only a hint of humor in his tone, and Ethan pursed his lips in response. Finally he responded, "I guess...I think an organ will be harder to replicate than fingers."
"You'll have a few minutes," Karl said nonchalantly, and then he slid his eyes toward Ethan with a sly smirk. "You know, I felt you. When she pulled your heart out."
"Excuse me," Ethan said, but his voice was flat--at this point, he felt like Heisenberg couldn't tell him something that was too outlandish. Still, he could feel the anxiety coursing through him, threading into and lowering his brows.
Karl nodded. "I was in the consciousness. After you--" he made a choking sound, running a finger across his own throat. "Was lookin' to see what happened to Miranda..." he paused, stroking his beard. "Hard to get around. Disorientin' as hell, right after you put me down. Anyway, I was lookin' for her, an' ran into your memory of it." Heisenberg's eyes widened, looking almost feral in the moonlight. "Wild, Ethan."
Ethan blinked rapidly. "Let me get this straight." He put up a hand, feeling disgusted and as if his privacy was grossly invaded. "You hopped into a cataloged memory of..." Ethan squinted. "My heart getting ripped out?"
Karl nodded slowly as though he didn't understand the issue.
Ethan stared, unsure what to say. This was possibly even stranger than the hallucination he'd had when Karl touched his chest. He hated learning new things about the Mold, he realized, and the whole subject made him hate Miranda even more. He could feel himself blushing again, but he wasn't sure why. How did he even feel about Karl being, essentially, in his head?
Karl shrugged at Ethan's stare, and went back to his original point. "So. S'long as things are the same as then, you've got a few before you completely collapse. If you don't get it," he dipped his head. "Don't worry. But your best bet is to have me--" he brandished a hand, "pull it out slow, while you...." --hand gesture-- "regrow? Regenerate? The heart in its place. And you'll be able to talk to me," Karl nodded. "If we need to change things, we can."
Ethan was nodding; the vision of Miranda squeezing his heart over her head was now replaying in his brain since Karl mentioned the memory. He felt dirty, and he sighed. Maybe he just would ask Karl to throw him off the cliff next time. Out of a misplaced anxiety, Ethan tried the good old 'talk to him like he's an enemy' banter tactic.
"I bet watching that made you feel a lot better," he said with the angry edge on his voice that he got anytime Karl made him feel....? However it was he felt. "After our fight."
Karl's eyes widened again, but they had no feral white edge to them this time. They looked almost childlike, full of emotional alarm. He drew back slightly. "Are you kidding?"
Ethan's scowl indicated he was not, in fact, kidding.
Karl stepped closer, and his fingers flexed as he fought to keep from touching the other man. He stared into the ravine for a moment, and then back at Ethan. When he exhaled, his breath fogged around him. "Ethan, it killed me to see. Never hated that bitch more than that moment. I was..." he shook his head slowly. "....fumin'."
This was perhaps the most human, and level, Heisenberg's speech had ever been. It was creepy, Ethan decided, and just when he opened his mouth to change the subject back to the task at hand, Karl ended his statement with, "One day you'll believe me, Winters."
There was that hurt again, Ethan thought. Now he really did feel like an asshole. He cringed, at himself, and made a mental note to try a new tactic next time. He could, right? Villain era and all. He could respond by not picking a fight about Karl's intentions. It seemed to be the only thing the man didn't want to fight about, actually. He would argue with the bricks on the wall for not fulfilling aesthetic obligations, probably, but his intentions with Ethan and Rose were off limits.
"I hope so," Ethan said lamely before taking a breath. Perhaps out of the residual guilt for his words, he stepped into Heisenberg's personal space this time, putting his palm on the other man's shoulder. Heisenberg instinctively moved again, wrapping his hand around Ethan's waist. At this, both Karl and Ethan's gazes shifted to the two Roma men who were watching the fire on the hill nearby.
The two young men stared back, and then suddenly became very busy loading wood onto the flames and stoking the embers. Ethan made a disgusted noise, and Karl chuckled, before putting his other palm on Ethan's chest.
"You got this," he said cheerfully, and Ethan once more closed his eyes.
Liminal space, he commanded.
When he opened his eyes, Eveline was the first thing he noticed. The sky was red, the space around him was twisted and dark. But Eveline was front and center on the hill, jeering at him. Ethan realized that even though he was alone here--no Karl in front of him, holding him as though they would ballroom dance, he could feel the warmth on his chest. Karl's other hand on his side, sliding around to his back. It was both thrilling and absolutely terrifying, but he couldn't focus on physical sensations, what with the maniacal child on the ledge nearby yelling about how he was an idiot.
Ethan put his own hand over his chest, and nodded--he immediately felt the sensation of...well, pulling. It was Karl, magnetizing the artificial heart's valves and chambers. Ethan could almost hear the clicking of machinery inside him, as though he were a mold-filled tin man. He felt sharp pains every time the metal shifted slightly, and his face immediately twisted. The magnetic pull eased.
"No, keep going," he said through ground teeth. Eveline was pacing. Her anger was causing thunder to rumble, lightning to appear around them. This happened in his dreams often enough that he could ignore it. "Heisenberg," he said after another wave of dizzying pain, "Don't stop."
Fantastic, he thought to himself as he was pitched forward with new sensations of pain, feeling the metal heat up--Karl was trying to burn the connections, he realized--that sentence was probably going to be held against him for the rest of his life.
Suddenly something interrupted Eveline's stream of insults. In a flash of lightning, the blond girl appeared. She was in an airy dress, reminding Ethan of a more-awkward Tinkerbell or other fairy as he tried to focus on whatever the fuck it was he was supposed to be doing. Now she stepped down the hill, ignoring Eveline completely. "You have the strength!"
Her voice was as light and strange as her look, and yet the daintiness somehow drowned out Eveline. She approached Ethan with a wide smile. "You can do it, Ethan!" she cheered, and stepped beside him, her pale hand slipping over his own, which was over Heisenberg's, though he couldn't see it.
Her voice and manner were steady where Eveline's was chaos. Ethan's blue eyes moved between the two of them as Eveline began to circle, moving closer. The blond instructed him with a reassuring tone. "Close your eyes. Think of your body. Listen to it. It will tell you what it needs."
It needs to be thrown off the cliff, he thought angrily, but listened. He could feel a million tiny fibers screaming in pain and fury. They were cut, singed by Heisenberg's metal. It bit into his chest. The heart suddenly felt crushing. Intrusive. It was not wanted. With his new friend's hand on his chest, and her other hand on his back, Ethan suddenly felt something--someone? Many people? Were speaking to him.
Get it out.
Just like that, huh? He knew what to do. So this was what a collective consciousness did. Ethan was staggering from the pain, but he felt a pull around his waist. Karl.
"Heisenberg," he shook his head, eyes still closed, mostly because he didn't want to see Eveline again. The lightning was still bright behind his eyes. "Get it out." He echoed the wisdom of a thousand echoes, all of the wisdom of the mycelial network. Ethan couldn't reason his way out of this one. It was pure instinct. He was different now. He knew.
The blond helping him was reassuring him of this in his mind. He could feel her there, too. When he sensed that Karl was hesitating, Ethan snapped, opening his eyes. "DO IT! NOW!"
Good thing he couldn't see the engineer; Ethan would have not had the courage to yell at someone literally responsible for his life, especially someone as dangerous as Karl Heisenberg. But aggression was Karl's language anyway, and it wasn't a moment later that Ethan's chest exploded, black and red spraying across his jacket--it wasn't the first time.
He didn't even cry out, feeling blood rise in his throat and cause him to sputter. Ethan dropped to his knees, his friend falling along right with him, and Eveline actually quieted of her own accord. The blond was speaking to him, but he didn't recognize the language. Romanian? Ethan wondered where Karl was. Why wasn't he healing? What was he supposed to do?
Why wasn't it working?
Pain was all he felt, and Ethan drooped forward, still on his knees, trying to stay vertical. The black boots and blue dress were a familiar sight, and when he looked up at Eveline, he expected to see a triumphant or sinister snarl on her face. Instead, she looked pensive. Scowling. Black blood trickled from Ethan's lips.
His friend was holding him up, her pale hand now covered in his blood. Mold? He couldn't really hear or understand what she said. Ethan instead made eye contact with Eveline.
The girl had an unreadable expression, and then she squatted, putting her smaller hand over Ethan's wound. In seconds, he could feel it. Whatever it was. His body. The cells. They knew what to do. Eveline was far more powerful than he was here; it was only moments after her touch that he felt the familiar warmth, pattern, of a heartbeat. He was regenerating.
"Why are you---" his voice was hoarse, thick with blood.
She smirked. "Because I. Hate. Miranda."
Ethan felt a wave of dizziness, and then he closed his eyes, falling forward toward the girl.
He jolted, becoming aware of something wet on his face. Rain. Ethan pulled away, remembering Eveline.
She was gone. The red moon was gone as well. This was...he was back. Home. But he didn't remember deciding to go. Had Eveline pushed him out?
He was on the ground, well, mostly. Heisenberg held his torso, was kneeling to support Ethan's fall. Now he rose, pulling Ethan with him, a scarily blank expression on his face. Ethan gazed down at his own chest; his shirt had ripped open, and his entire torso was covered in blood and...ew, the black liquid he seemed to be made of.
Karl manhandled the shirt open, using his glove to wipe away the blood and inspect Ethan's chest. His eyes were still wide. Even though again, his touch and gaze were purely clinical, Ethan felt like jumping off the cliff from embarrassment this time. He writhed, trying to pull away.
"I'm...I'm okay," he said, not knowing if it were true. He wanted to try to stand; Ethan had to pry himself from Heisenberg's grip. Now he leaned forward, hands on his knees, gulping in the cold, wet air. Had Eveline started this storm, here? Impossible, he decided. Coincidence. Yep. Coincidence. Because those happened a lot here.
The Roma were doing literally anything other than looking at the two men. Ethan figured they'd probably spend the next week finding every good spell and talisman humanly possible to ward off the evil that was watching one man rip another man's heart out.
Ethan's internal humorous dialogue was interrupted when Karl yanked his face upright, causing Ethan to nearly fall forward. The brunette grasped Ethan's neck in both gloved hands. They were slippery and smelled of blood. He was holding him tightly, too tight. Ethan winced at the sudden movement, winced even more at the pain from being held in this position when he was still so queasy. He might puke all over Karl, which probably wouldn't even deter the other.
Again Ethan thought Heisenberg was close enough to kiss him--and would do it--and the blond simply stared at the other's wide eyes as Karl glared, crazy eyed. His jaw was ticking. Was he angry? Ethan grunted, trying to ease the tension. Literal tension, as Karl was almost bending his neck backwards staring at him. "You're--hurting--me--"
Karl let go, almost pushing Ethan away. When Ethan stumbled, Karl looked remorseful at this action, but he simply raised his hat and ran a slimy glove through his hair before replacing the hat. Ethan still felt winded, but now he was extra cautious of Heisenberg's mood.
He tried to extend an olive branch. "Thanks," he huffed.
Karl was almost pacing. He cut his eyes at Ethan when the blond spoke, and now he seemed to be holding himself back from speaking. When he did so, his lips always pressed together hard, and he looked as though he would implode. Ethan had learned that even before the pair fought each other.
Olive-branch Ethan was in full form. "You okay?"
Karl paused in the pacing to dig through his coat. He withdrew a cigar and lighter, and paused before putting both toward his lips. He seemed to realize that he was the one being irrational, and his shoulders dropped when he looked at Ethan.
"I'll check you out in a minute," he said in a non-answer, "But my guess it that it worked." Ethan smirked, feeling almost prideful in upsetting the other man, until Karl added, "Let's not do that again."
He did put the cigar to his lips now, and as he lit it, Ethan's smirk turned into a sly smile of his own. "What, ripping my heart out wasn't a goal all this time?"
Heisenberg's cigar embers lit his face for a moment. Lightning flashed behind them, up the hill where Eveline had been. Heisenberg took his time puffing the cigar, staring at Ethan stonily, before pocketing the lighter.
"Never," he said evenly.