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the-gay-prometheus · 3 years

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Frankenstein AU Segment - “A Time to Mourn” Part 1

Uh- hi - I couldn’t figure out a better title for this one so. We’re stuck with this for now until I think of something better.

Anyways.

This one takes place quite a while after the segment called 'Try.' There's a bit of context missing because of this but... Hopefully it's not too confusing.

A bit of background on this. I knew for a while that I wanted to introduce Ernest and Elizabeth into the main story by having Victor, Henry, and Agape visit William’s grave and be found entirely by accident, but I wasn’t really sure how I wanted to make that happen. And then, in my brain’s infinite wisdom, I came up with.... whatever the hell this is.

Fun fact - part of the writing process for this legitimately had me physically sobbing. Which is kind of sad considering... this isn’t even close to the most painful part of the AU as a whole. Point is though, it took me way longer to write because how in the world do you put into words something that there are no words to describe? I know for sure I still wasn’t able to do it justice despite spending weeks thinking it over and writing and rewriting it, but I think I got it as close as I could possibly get.

Now on to the somewhat disappointing part: this segment is technically going to be posted in two parts. I didn’t intend for it to end up being another two-parter, but what ended up happening was that I suddenly realized I had five pages of content written for it already despite still having more to write and, if I had ended up introducing Ernest the way I originally wanted to, that would have taken up another page or two at least. That would have ended up being a nine to ten page segment - which is waaaay too long if you ask me. This does unfortunately mean that Ernest’s true introduction is going to be delayed, but....

There is a bright side to this, though! I have a new idea for the full introduction of Ernest, and this means that Ernest will actually be getting a segment that is primarily focused on himself way sooner than I originally anticipated. I think he deserves as much, to be honest.

...All of that out of the way, on to the story.

A few warnings for this one: Mentions of blood, death of a child, and breaking bones (if you catch any I missed, please let me know asap!)

As always, likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are highly appreciated!

It was before the sun rose that Victor awoke, somehow feeling entirely alert despite having only slept a few hours. He sat up in bed, staring at the wall in silence as he prepared himself for the day and the journey ahead. Henry stirred beside him, and though Victor hushed him quietly, his hazel eyes shuttered open. Still half asleep, he yawned and wriggled slightly, pulling the blanket over himself more before slowly starting to half sit upright. “Mm… it’s not already time for you to leave yet, is it?” he grumbled, voice raspy from sleep.

“If I want to make this as quick a trip as possible, yes,” Victor sighed in return, reaching over and taking Henry’s hand.

“And you promise you’ll be back in two days at most?”

“I promise,” Victor answered quietly, lifting his hand and gingerly kissing the back of it. Henry smiled slightly, shifting his grip and returning the kiss with one of his own on the back of Victor’s hand. Victor smiled back, but the expression soon faded into a more solemn one. “Do you promise you’ll keep him here until I come back?” Henry nodded.

“I promise. We’ll… probably go climbing or something,” he replied, sitting more upright and leaning his head on Victor’s shoulder. Victor rested his head against Henry’s, staring ahead once again.

“You should probably talk to him today, while you’re at it,” he suggested. Henry glanced up at him.

“Only if he brings it up. I don’t think he’d take it well if I was the one to bring it up.” Victor was silent, but nodded after a moment. With great effort, he pried himself away from Henry and slipped out of bed to prepare himself for the journey ahead. As he dressed himself, Henry stretched and pulled himself out of bed, walking over and wrapping his arms around Victor from behind once he was fully dressed in his traveling clothes. Victor leaned back into him as Henry placed his chin on his shoulder, raising one hand and placing his palm on Henry’s cheek. “I wish I could come with you,” Henry murmured quietly.

“I know,” Victor replied, “but someone needs to stay and make sure Agape doesn’t leave.” He sighed softly. “In a perfect world you could come with me and I could trust he wouldn’t follow but… we both know him. He’d follow even if he promised not to.” Henry nodded.

“You’re right. But I’ll still miss you.” Victor smiled, pulling back and turning to face him. He stood on his toes and rested his arms on Henry’s shoulders before kissing him softly, Henry reciprocating as he wrapped his arms back around him.

“I know,” Victor answered as he pulled back again. “I’ll miss you too.” Despite Henry’s reluctance to let him go, Victor moved to grab his black coat from the hook by the bedroom door.

“Please take care of yourself while you’re gone,” Henry requested, walking over and helping him to put the coat on. Victor nodded, popping the collar up.

“I will, as best as I’m able.” Just as he opened the door, Henry took hold of his arm and pulled him in for one last kiss, which Victor certainly didn’t protest to. After a moment, he gently tapped Henry’s shoulder, and Henry begrudgingly broke away, a sort of pouting expression in his eyes that made Victor smile. He walked out of the room, silently opening the front door and stepping outside. Henry followed him to the door, standing in the doorway as Victor took a moment to look up at the starry morning sky, admiring how the black of night had begun to lighten around the horizon with the coming sunrise.

“Victor?” Henry called as he watched his husband begin to make his way toward the trail that would lead down the mountain. Victor paused and turned.

“Hm?”

“I love you.” Victor smiled.

“I love you too. I’ll be back before you know it.” With that, he turned again, and disappeared into the trees.

---

“Agape?” Henry called out, worry in his voice as he trudged through the forest, frantically searching in every direction. “Agape?!” After Victor left, he had crawled back into bed and - despite intending to only sleep until just after the sun fully rose, he had managed to sleep in until noon. When he awoke, he realized that his son was nowhere to be found. Though he tried to keep calm, he was terrified. After all, he promised Victor that he wouldn’t let him leave, but now he couldn’t even find him. He searched each of Agape’s usual favorite thinking spots - the pool in the mossy clearing, the circle of stones that looked like they had been intentionally placed in the middle of a stand of silver fir, the grove of collapsed larches from some long-past avalanche, the massive waterfall that dropped from the edge of a cliff and left the forest around it coated in mist - he was still nowhere to be found. The final place he could think to check was the alpine meadow on the other end of the forest, and as he passed through the final tangle of branches, he breathed a sigh of relief as he caught sight of the one he was looking for. Agape stood very still, his long black hair and dark cloak gently billowing in the mountain breeze as he overlooked the peaks on the horizon. Henry approached him slowly and solemnly, standing at his side and staring off in the same direction. “Agape I… I was hoping you would have come and talked to me this morning.”

“You were still asleep when I awoke,” Agape replied after a moment’s silence. “I did not wish to wake you.”

“Instead you worried me half sick,” Henry pointed out, turning his eyes to him.

“That was not my intention.” As he stared out over the distant heights, Henry searched his expression for how he was feeling. “I needed some time to… think.”

“About?” Henry asked, sitting on the grass and motioning for him to sit as well. Agape looked down at him, and hesitated for a moment before sitting beside him.

“I required time to think about what I should do,” he concluded, looking down as he brushed his fingers through the grass around him. He turned, his eyes settling on a patch of wildflowers further down the slope. “I… wish to pay my respects.” Henry tensed.

“That’s… that’s a wonderful idea Agape but, well-” He paused, unsure of how to word it and worried he might take it the wrong way. “Well… Victor- he… See, that’s- that’s where Victor is off to at the moment. And he specifically requested to be-” He cut himself off as Agape suddenly stood, and began walking over to the patch of wildflowers. “Agape?” The tall figure bent down, and began plucking a few of the flowers. Curious, Henry stood and walked over to him. As he walked over, Agape straightened himself upright, and held out a small handful of the flowers for Henry to see.

“As I recall, flowers are a customary gift for the dead, correct?” he asked. Henry was about to reply, when he caught sight of the flowers that Agape held. They were small, pale blue, and grew in clusters on long, vibrant green stems. “Myosotis alpestris,” he recited, recalling the scientific name from one of his and Victor’s many excursions to this spot. “Commonly known as-”

“Forget-me-nots,” Henry breathed, looking up at him. Agape nodded.

“Indeed. They seem… most appropriate.” Suddenly Henry was conflicted. On one hand, he knew Victor needed time to grieve alone. After all, it had been two years, and all that time, he never really had a moment to spend truly grieving. But on the other hand… there was Agape. Clearly seeking something, likely closure or forgiveness, and who was he to deny him that? “If I wish to arrive there in a timely fashion I should leave presently,” Agape continued, breaking him from his thoughts.

“I’m coming with you,” Henry blurted out before he could consider trying to change his son’s mind. Agape gave him an odd, yet comforted look.

“I would much appreciate your accompaniment, Henry, but if that is the case then we truly must leave right away unless you intend for me to carry you.” Henry shook his head.

“That won’t be necessary,” he answered. “Though I may take you up on that offer on the way back.” Agape nodded.

“I understand. In which case, let us be on our way.”

---

By the time Victor arrived at his family’s cemetery, it was well into the night and the full moon coated the land in an eerie pale gleam. Throughout his journey he had felt strangely numb, as though the reality of it all still hadn’t set in yet - which was especially strange, considering it had been two years now. Still, as he stepped beyond the gate, it seemed as though the weight of every body that lay beneath was piled on top of him and for a moment he struggled to breathe. Memories flooded back of his time in Ingolstadt, digging through graves in the middle of the night, sorting through corpses, picking and choosing which parts he would take and which he would leave behind. Although he knew he had nothing to fear, a chill ran down his spine as he felt like a hundred spirits had gathered around him to judge him for his actions. He shook the thought away, gripping at the collar of his coat and pulling it to cover his face as he walked onward. Searching through the names he once played amongst as a child, he finally came across the headstone he was looking for, and upon seeing it he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Resting serenely beneath a willow was a small granite stone that read ‘William Frankenstein ~ Tragically murdered on May 7th aged 8 years.’ It felt like a nightmare. It felt like it shouldn’t be real. Even after all this time, he couldn’t picture it. The last time he had seen his brother, he was no more than an infant, and he couldn’t fathom what the body six feet beneath where he stood might have looked like. Though his throat was suddenly dry, he shuddered and swallowed hard as he reached out and placed a hand on the cold stone.

“I-” His voice cracked as he began to speak. “I don’t… I don’t know what to say to you. I… I don’t have the words.” He hesitated, clenching his eyes shut. “How, William- how have I continued on knowing that your innocent blood is on my hands? I’m... I never should have-” He sucked in a shaky breath, then suddenly recoiled as a horrible vision swam in his mind. He could see it clearly: his creation’s horrible hand upon the throat of a child, yellow eyes burning with fury as he squeezed the life out of his infant brother. A squeak of disgust escaped his throat at the thought, and he trembled. “I never should have done it. I never should have created it. I- If I hadn’t you would still be alive and- and-” His trembling worsened and he broke into a cold sweat. “Good god William, what the hell am I doing? That thing, that demon, he slaughtered you with his bare hand, and here I am playing the father figure. You, my own brother, perished from his malice and I have been treating him with dignity he most certainly doesn’t deserve!” he exclaimed, his voice hoarse. “How blinded by my own fear of what he might do have I been? How insulting it must be to see me treat your murderer with such care.” He nearly fell as his trembling worsened, and he caught his fall upon the edge of the headstone with a gasp. Slowly, he recovered and stood. “How-” he was cut off by the sound of footsteps, and for a moment fear gripped him until he turned. Walking into the cemetery were two familiar shapes, and though in other circumstances he might have been glad to see them, in this particular moment he felt his blood boil with rage. “You’ve got an awful lot of nerve to follow me here,” he seethed as they approached, his eyes narrowed as he glared at them. Henry sighed, glancing away as he stopped just a few feet from where Victor stood.

“I know- I’m sorry but-”

“No, Henry,’” Victor snapped, clenching his fists. “You. Promised.”

“Yes, I did, and I shouldn’t have. This isn’t about me and it isn’t about you either. He-” Agape slowly walked forward, his expression seemingly blank as his yellow eyes stared down at the headstone. Victor felt rage coursing through him at the sight, his mind still reeling from the dreadful vision he had witnessed only moments ago.

“Get the hell out of my sight,” Victor snarled at the creature, his hand shaking as he forcefully pointed toward the exit. Agape didn’t respond, instead simply taking another silent step. Henry wanted to speak up, but kept his mouth shut, knowing nothing he would say could possibly help. “How dare you come here! After what you did to him you-” He cut himself off as the creature took another step. “Are you listening to me? Get. Out!” he cried, pointing once again toward the exit. Another step. “I swear if you take one more step I will not be responsible for my actions,” he hissed. Another step, suddenly more unsteady this time. Victor felt fury swell within him and he suddenly lunged toward his creation. Henry grabbed him before he could lay so much as a finger on Agape, and Victor in turn was about to push him away to make another attempt at striking the creature, when his eyes caught sight of pale blue clutched between his creation’s boney hands. He hesitated suddenly, his vision focusing to realize that Agape held a small bouquet of various wildflowers he had plucked along the journey to the cemetery, though most numerous in the assortment was forget-me-nots. His eyes widened and he felt some of his rage dissipate as Agape took another faltering step. Henry, seeing that Agape was struggling, instinctively moved to help him, but Victor raised an arm and stopped him. “Agape?” Victor managed to hoarsely call out. The creature did not answer, and simply took another step, now standing directly over the grave. All seemed unnaturally silent, no rustling of branches in the breeze or calls of nocturnal creatures, just silence. Victor felt his heart sink as he beheld his creation suddenly tense hard. “...Agape-”

There was a war suddenly raging within the creature’s heart. Such was his anguish at the thought of his crimes that he felt as though every stitch was tearing out of its seam. His memory flooded with dreaded images he had tried so hard to suppress, and it overwhelmed him. As he tried to keep his composure, his grasp on the flowers tightened. Terror gripped him as the soft crumpling of the stems sounded more like sickening cracks in his ears and the damp feeling of now crushed stalks felt more like blood covering his hands. Though they were only wilted flowers, in the vision of his troubled mind, he held the broken neck of a young boy, and in horror he released his grip. He stared down at his hands, shaking violently, before suddenly collapsing to his knees. An indescribably banshee-like scream of pure agony escaped him as he threaded his fingers through his long black hair and gripped the locks tightly as though he were ready to rip them from his own skull. Both Victor and Henry flinched at the dreadful noise, Henry turning away and Victor struggling to hold back a sob of his own. Tears gushed from Agape’s eyes, falling heavy into the grass below, and he struggled to breathe between the cries of despair that escaped him.

As Victor took in a shaky breath, he felt himself tremble as his thoughts flooded with everything he had just said. After all this time, he had never really considered how Agape might have been reflecting on his own actions, or how he too might have been hiding just how much emotional pain he was in regarding that fateful event. And, if this was still the cold hearted murderer he had considered his creation might be, then why would he be in such clearly torturous distress over the death over the one he himself had killed? Worse yet, he knew better - he had seen just how far Agape had come in coping with his emotions and relating to others. He had seen the amount of care and sympathy this miraculous creature showed toward Henry and himself, how selfless he had always been. After all, even though Victor wished that perhaps he had stayed dead, it was out of a deep familial love that Agape had used the very elixir and device that was meant to create an everlasting companion for himself to instead restore his creator - his father - to life. And, in a very real sense, Agape was still a child. For a child to spend two years silently coping with a trauma so intense, though it may have been a trauma the child himself caused, was a burden that Victor could barely comprehend. All at once, whatever malice he still held for his creation within him melted away, and, making the first move, he walked toward his son and shakily placed a hand on his shoulder.

Agape had finally begun to quiet himself while Victor had been hesitating to make any movement, but as soon as he felt the hand of his father placed gently upon him, he felt a sudden swell of heartbreaking pain and he lurched with a sob. In his mind, he deserved no sympathy, and feeling that this man who had just moments prior hurled threats at him was moved so deeply by his grief that he might entirely change his own damaged perspective, shattered his already guilt ridden soul. Victor himself could no longer hold back his emotions, breaking into tears of his own. He flinched slightly as he suddenly felt a hand placed on his shoulder, and exhaled a shaky breath as he recognized the gentle touch as his husband’s. Henry lingered there behind him for a moment, but slowly moved to his son’s other side, kneeling beside him and resting a hand gently upon his back. Though he opened his mouth to speak, he was shocked into silence as Victor spoke instead.

“I am so-” He hesitated, tensing and shuddering before inhaling sharply and continuing. “So sorry.” The words hurt to say, there was no denying that. The moment they left his lips it felt like a dagger cutting into his chest and a fire burning in his throat. Agape’s still tear-filled eyes widened as he heard them, but he stayed silent, not daring to speak in fear of even the slightest chance that his words may only serve to condemn himself more. Once he regained his composure, Victor went on. “I may be cursed with the knowledge of what happened, with knowing that what I did played a part in sealing his fate, but you…” He swallowed hard, and knelt down beside him, reaching out and turning Agape’s face toward him though his son’s yellow eyes averted from his gaze. “You who have changed and grown, who I have watched make such strides of progress toward returning to the kind and gentle soul you once possessed-” Agape winced at his words, strands of his long black hair falling over his face and hiding his eyes. Victor gently pushed the locks away, tucking them behind his ear. “To be forever stained with vivid memories of what you once did, and to hide the pain it must have caused you as you came to realize that action was such a grievous atrocity for the sake of keeping peace - I can only imagine what a living hell it must have been for all that time.” Picking up one of the flowers, though damaged, he held it up and inspected the pale blue of its tiny petals. “I thought maybe you had simply… forgotten. That maybe to you it had been such an inconsequential action, that maybe all it was, was a means to an end.” He placed the flower down in front of the headstone, and gazed upon the engraving. “It doesn’t make logical sense, though, to think that you might have forgotten, given your… impeccable memory. So maybe that was a lie I told myself - to make blaming you and resenting you justifiable.” He glanced over at Henry, who was staring at him from Agape’s other side with a kind, compassionate smile despite the tears still rolling down his freckled cheeks, and in an instant his guilt and regret melted away into a gentle warmth that seeped through him and turned his pained expression into a similarly soft smile. Agape’s immense frame trembled with a long, labored exhale.

“I am undeserving of your sympathy, Victor. The crime I committed was unforgivable.”

“He never said that your crime was forgiven,” Henry pointed out gently. Agape gave him a pained glance. “Killing a child for the sake of gaining compassion by force is unforgivable, it’s true. But no matter how unforgivable an action may be, no man is born or created innately knowing what is forgivable and what is not. It’s what he chooses to do with the knowledge of his actions that determines whether he himself is worthy of forgiveness or not.” There was a long pause as Agape considered what Henry said.

“Given all I have done and everything I am, would I be considered worthy? Was his murder not so damning that I should be forever condemned? Is there any stride I could make that could in some way restore my dignity of one worth the forgiveness of those he so grievously harmed?” He struggled to steady his voice between each still labored breath, each pulse within him carrying a dull ache of still ever-growing guilt and shame.

“Well,” Victor began, reaching out to him and wiping the tears from his eyes. “All things considered, I would say-” He cut himself off as he perceived in his peripheral vision a gleaming light that seemed to be quickly approaching. He looked to Henry, who seemed to be staring out at the glow with squinted eyes. “Henry,” he whispered somewhat harshly. Henry turned his gaze back down to him. “What is it?”

“Someone is coming,” Henry whispered back. Agape flinched at his words and made a quiet noise almost like a yelp, suddenly clutching at the edges of his cloak and pulling it tighter around himself. Both Victor and Henry hushed him softly, though they looked to each other with concern.

“What do we do?” Footsteps could be heard approaching through the grass beyond - two steps and a gentle tap with each stride. Henry lifted his eyes back up toward the approaching figure.

“...I’ll handle it,” he muttered. “Besides, we can’t risk… you know,” he added, gesturing toward Agape. Victor nodded silently, dropping his eyes to the ground and placing a hand back up onto Agape’s shoulder and squeezing tightly - half to reassure him, and half to give himself something to hold on to as he tried not to imagine the worst. Gently pulling the hood of Agape’s cloak over his head, Henry stood, turning toward the figure and trying to determine who it might be. The voice that called out from beyond sent a sudden chill through Victor’s veins and a new fear gripped at his heart. He wasn’t ready for this. Not here. Not now.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

#frankenstein au #tw blood mention #tw broken bones mention #tw death mention #I actually attempted proofreading on this lmao. we'll see if it made much of a difference or not but there were things i ended up changing!#so... good for me! i call that character development on my part i think lmao

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