" 1892

The doctor is quiet tonight, quieter then usual that is. The slight ruffling of papers and his frustrated grunts and sounds is all that echo to my room"

I write in my journal as I did, almost every night for the nights have been restless and torture. Or the nights when the doctor did not call and perhaps forgotten I was even here, as he most often did. But mainly its the nightmares I cant remember, the memory of my parents or at least, what left I could remember of them. The blooming age of 16 has erased most of my memories before the doctor, but nothing can erase my parents death. Then comes the thoughts of the doctor himself; the sociopathic, genius mad man who has changed very little since I first stayed with him.

" 'Your are not my nurse Will Henry' he'd say. 'Im here to take care of you. You have been pressed onto me by an unexpected turn of events and you are my apprentice; nothing more, no less.' Yet his 'taking care' was given the basics; clothes, a place to sleep, food... did he actually care for me? Emotionally? Bah! The thought Will Henry the thought! The doctor cared for none but his work and himself, his ego, as I'm sure I've mentioned before, as vast the endless and infinite as his research. But still...has the thought of me being his own ever come to mind? Or had the breeze carrying such a thought flowed right pass? Maybe not his own but all he has? Did he think of me as his something more then just a forced apprentice? Though these thoughts are foolish, it cant be stopped. I adore the infuriating man and as I said, he has not changed except for becoming more tense and a bit more moody but nothing new I can assure myself."

"Will Henry! Will Henry! What are you doing boy?! Get here quickly quickly! Snap to Will Henry! Snap to!" by the first 'snap to' my journal was shut and I myself was out my bed hurrying to dress, grabbing my flimsy white cotton shirt two sizes too big and a pair of sleeping pants, tied around my thin almost female waist with twine. Shocking really that I'm so small when I help the doctor carry his experiments down since I turned 13. But there hasn't been much of such work... I quickly rush to the library. As my heavy steps hit the wood, the doctor turned on his heel and look over me.

"What were you doing Will Henry?"

"Writing sir."

"Writing?" He echoes. I nod. "Yes sir in my journal."

"You should be asleep."

"I cant sir. Troublesome night I can only say." I look up at the doctor, who seemed to stay taller then me even at my age. The slight stubble of his rugged chin, his dark brown hair frenzy and his eyes dark yet...no no his eyes had something in them! I am sure of this, for the glaze over his eyes was not that of his usual excitement.

"Troublesome night? Well good! Such mundane activies cant be performed at such a time!" He turns back to his table, full of newspapers, maps, letters and many, many books.

"Sir?"

"As you know Will Henry, my recent studies have not been as...interesting as before sadly but I have been doing something!" I nod, remembering the last late night caller had been more then two weeks ago, yet she brought nothing with her. Yes her. Its was a woman. She held herself as a king or in her case a queen would. She spoke with the doctor and since then, as I said no more monsters for the monstrumologist. He has been working with the human body, the normal human body. None so far disfigured or wounded in tramatical ways.

"...you." I snap out of my thoughts. "S-sir? Me what?" I flush and try to shake my head, hoping for it to disappear. "I need to study you Will Henry are you deaf?" his voice is calm and monotone as he watches through unreadable eyes.

"N..no sir! I hear fairly well b-but w-what to you need to study m-me for?" I stammer, unable to toss aside the fear of being 'studied'. 'Will he open my lifeless body and examine me? Study the young assistant that once was?' to my surprise, the doctor... he chuckled. The sound was rare and light and...beautiful.

As always the doctor could read my mind so well (I could only pray he did not hear the very last of my thoughts) and shook his head, the small chuckle and playfulness gone so fast, I could've simply imagined such a thing. "I have no wish to render you lifeless Will Henry. Your services indispensable to me. No no I need to study behavior and reaction." the usual bitterness I think of when he speaks of my services being indispensable I store away and blink at him in obvious confusion. "B-but sir how?"

"How?"

"Yes sir. I only mean, most of my reactions are based on you and your studies. My behavior is as you've made it. How can you study something of which, in the most speakable of terms, you've created?" All is quiet and I fear the wrath of my master. I didn't mean to question him! But I speak the truth and he has said 'Do not lie Will Henry! I don't need false truth! If so, I would ask anyone with out on the street. I cannot have a trust if you lie William James Henry!'. Lost in my thought once more, I jump a little as I feel his strong hand clasp my shoulder. I look up from the ground (in which I had no recollection of looking down at) and spot another rare accurence; his light and delicate smile. The heat grows and spreads from my body to my face once more.

"The most beautiful and awe-striking creations have been made by the blind William." My jaw, in every sense of the word, drops and my heart races to a level in which, no doubt in me has, that Dr. Warthrop could hear. "D-doctor..." I couldn't express the joy of the simple words he uttered and the impact it made. Had he read my journal? From the younger years of myself and the more yellowed pages, had he read such things that I had dreamt as a child? Im certain he has not, for if he had, I assure myself, I would not be here.

"Now go back to sleep. For this experiment I need your entire trust if I have not of it understood?" his warm hand left the thin layer of my shirt and shoulder, his tone back to normal and his face as serious as ever. I nod. "I've always trusted you sir, nothing has or will change." he turns his back to me and holds his hand in the air, drumming his fingers in his dismissive manner. "Good. Now go to bed. And do your best to forget of my testings. A test subject doesn't know of its dissection-"

"til the spirit is once more called to the ruptured limbs." I finish, hiding my disappointment of the use of 'test subject'.

"Don't be cheeky Will Henry now off to bed with you." his tone was even and even though I was upset to say the least I let out a little laugh before leaving. "Yes sir. Goodnight master."

As I finally stepped one solid numb foot within my room, all feelings came rushing back, the biggest being one I haven't felt in four years. While yes it is true as a boy I could not stand the doctor for what had happened and the years and years of cold treatment, but I adored the man as I do now. I jump to every 'snap to', I suffered through his indigences screams of anger and frustration, I stayed days, nights beside him in everything he did not because I had to, no but because I wanted to. I was and am a young foot soldier of science! And the doctor, the general. But not only for duty did I stand by, but out of love. Yes i did protest, of course I would. But my loyalty wasn't just blind loyalty. As the doctor, as well as others have said, I am no child. I do love Dr. Warthrop. The doctor was all I had- all I have left as I am his (though his rooted stubborn nature will never say). And through almost everything, even the thoughts of him willing to sacrifice me for his own selfish studies! I believed, as I still do, that deep down, beneath the molted rock of himself, lies the young boy with a fever, all alone. But now, and for as long as I've been here, he has not been alone.

As I said, every thought, every experiment, and almost everyword has been muttered/yelled/screamed to me. I know, more when I read the letter that had been written by him to his own father then before, that the doctor was lone and that's how he raised himself; Strong, hard and lone.

So hard, for years I tried to push such ludicrious and foolish feelings and thoughts pass but my work of labors were fruitless until I finally blocked them out. I stored them in the farthest part of my mind and sealed it tight like one of the jars of specimen in the basement below. Now...or maybe even before which I would unlike to admit, the feelings are back and stronger then ever. "Oh dear..." I mumble to myself, dropping upon my bed. "With his studyings and his eyes always on me, how ever will I hide such...such hideous emotion!?" Ach if anyone were to find out! Then I remember him saying 'forget my testings'. Could it be that itself was a test? For this night only? I pray to anything that will hear, let it be so! For the keen eyes of which only Pellinore Warthrop could ever have would see straight through my lies! I lay in bed and shockingly, the sand of time bade me quick and swift, brushing away the dismay of only being his test subject and letting the warm touch of his hand become present again as his words rung out as the church bell;

The most beautiful and awe-striking creations have been made by the blind William