AN: Based very loosely of a friend's comic for a kiribian. This was originally going to be something funny, but it didn't turn out like that. Call it Puppetry Musings!Eliza finally speaking up.
Ja lieb -Yes dear?
Eliza had been lying against her husband for a long time now, playing idly with the ring on his finger.
They hadn't spoken since they'd come into the room, but it didn't matter. They were simply enjoying each other's company in a rare moment of privacy.
When her eyes drifted over as a loud group passed the door, they landed firmly on his collar. They stayed there for a while before Eliza finally gritted her teeth.
"Faust," she hissed, looking up at him firmly.
He paused as he tried to figure out exactly what was causing the tone. "Ja lieb?"
She grabbed his collar and roughly pulled it so that he could see, "Whose lipstick is this?"
He looked at her before laughing nervously, "Um… it's mine."
Eliza's face dropped in confusion, "…Yours?"
He offered her a half-smile, "Um, yes. I've been through a phase since you died –I believe the children are calling it 'gothic'. See?" He licked and then rubbed his lips, showing her the smears of purple on the back of his hand.
She looked him over before turning her head away, "Oh, I see. I guess that would explain that tattoo you suddenly got…"
"What, these?" Faust asked, putting his fingertips to the markings on his neck. "No, these are to enhance the connection in necromancing."
She looked at what he thought she meant before shaking her head, "No, not those. I meant that… reverse pentagram all over your back."
He paused before shaking his head. "No… that was a night in Berlin." He looked up as he tried to remember, "If I recall correctly, it somehow involved a lot of beer, my first shot of morphine… and, um…" Faust trailed off.
Eliza looked to him idly, "And what?"
When he shrugged, she spoke to him more forcefully, "And what?"
He looked away, running his tongue on the inside of his cheek as he thought, "Some girl and a friend of mine… we… got tattoos."
She looked at him with irritated disbelief, "You went and… got tattoos?"
He nodded.
"You actually expect me to believe that you while drunk and high, got together with people who were just as drunk and high, went out and only got tattoos?"
He nodded.
"Would you believe you?"
He paused before nodding vigorously.
Eliza frowned, "How soon after I died did you get this 'tattoo'?"
Faust thought for a moment, "I believe… two years."
"Hm," she said finally, mouth tightened. "You're using morphine?"
He froze, "…Only on occasion."
She shook her head at him, "I can practically smell it on you, Faust. You're an addict. If it wasn't for that ring on your finger, I swear to God, I wouldn't know who I was talking to."
He smiled nervously, mouth quivering, "Eliza… I'm still…"
She sat up to move to the other side of the couch, "No you're not. The man I married would NEVER have touched Faust I's notes. He NEVER would have tattooed anything satanic on himself. And he never would have…" She paused and pointed a finger at his bare chest, in particular the discolored portion, "What the hell happened there, anyway?"
Faust looked away for a second, "Well, I needed a skin transfusion, and…"
"From one of these fights?" she asked forcefully, eyebrows furrowed.
A corner of his mouth twitched into an awkward smile, "…Something like that. I needed it and I…"
"Live skin wouldn't have discolored like that," she told him firmly, "Where did you…. Oh God…" Eliza clamped a hand from her mouth as she left the couch and backed away. "Oh God you… Y-you monster! You took that off a corpse, didn't you?"
He slowly stood, walking toward her with his hands raised non-threateningly, "It was the only place I could get enough skin! It was only meant to be temporary, but it worked well so I…"
Eliza kept a distance between them. "You pulled the skin off a corpse!" she yelled, pointing an accusing finger at him, "Don't you see a little moral problem in that?"
"It was a matter of life and death, Eliza," he told her as he finally took the hint and stopped trying to move closer, "You know I wouldn't have if I…"
"No, I don't know what you would and wouldn't do, Faust," she told him, shaking her head, "That's the point. I married a sweet, gentle man. You… you're this disgusting excuse for a human that stole his body…."
His face contorted with hurt –just the same as if she'd slapped him. "Eliza… I…"
"Save it," she told him, wrapping her arms around herself, "I just… I just don't want to hear anything more from you. I would have come back to Johann in a second. But…" She kept her eyes turned down to keep from looking at him.
Faust stood for a long while, looking at his hands as he tried to sort everything going through his head into words. His mouth opened and shut on occasion, but nothing came out.
Tears had begun to roll down his face by the time he finally sighed and leaned his head down slightly. "Eliza, I'm… not the man I was ten years ago. I know I'm not, but I should be. But… I've done everything for you…"
"I never wanted anything you do," she told him flatly, looking up to glare at him.
Faust winced at the comment, but went on. "But, still, I did," he told her, edging just the slightest bit closer, "Everything I've done for ten years has been to bring you back. I've given everything, even things I would never mention, for you. I'd do it again in an instant."
He was moving closer, but she held her ground with fists clenched just incase he tried something.
"Eliza… no matter what I am…. I love you." He offered her a tiny smile. "I love you with every ounce of my being –more than anyone could ever possibly imagine." He stopped, looking at her desprately, "Doesn't that count for anything?"
Eliza turned her head to the side, "It's not that simple. You're asking me to just ignore everything you are and everything you've done… for what? Just because you did it for me? Just because in your own twisted way you love me?" She shook her head and stepped away, "I don't know if I can."
His lower lip quivered as he stared at her in disbelief, "Eliza…"
"Look, this is…"
She stopped as he took her in his arms, pressing her to himself as he buried his face in her hair.
"Eliza please," he whispered, "I'm sorry, whatever you want I'll do. I just… I just…"
Eliza stood numbly as she let him sob into her hair.
What exactly was she going to do? This was an incredibly dangerous, psychopathic man who was using her for a weapon.
He was covered in the scars of past surgeries –all of them self-diagnosed and administered. His sanity was in-and-out at best –ranging from something which resembled Johann to a… she couldn't even think of the word.
He didn't sleep, he was a drug addict, and he dissected people simply for fun.
There was nothing left she now recognized or liked.
But still he loved her –exactly as much as he said he did, though probably more. He'd sacrificed absolutely everything short of his life because of it.
And… somewhere buried in this complete mess of a person was Johann. There was a possibility that, with work and dedication, she could dig him back up.
With hesitation, she circled her arms limply around his back.
"I want my husband back. I hate Faust," she said softly, her eyes fixed on the ceiling.
When he nodded into her neck, she tightened a corner of her mouth. Eliza moved his head to look him in the eye.
"Go touch up your lipstick," she told him flatly, "And don't glob it on like you do, it looks trashy."
He stared at her for a while before smile slowly spread across his face. He squeezed her to himself tighter than before.
Just slightly, she allowed herself to hug him back.