Not only does Herbert become more determined to hold Meg in his possessive but otherwise desiring grasp, but here comes a shocking turn between her and Daniel, the man whom she sees as her deceased lover in. And in comes the next parts of the "Groom", as the construction of the new Dan is called. :) As well as a new pet and an accidental slip-up of a long-buried secret Herbert swore never to reveal to Meg.

Chapter Twelve

Blessed and Burdened

She would come and visit Daniel every morning and every end of the day just to spend a little time with him before moving on to the next patient or going home. It gave her peace of her mind from the whole...morbid idea of creating a new human being. It was too good to be true, but wrong at the same time. And at the center of it all...Dan's heart. Which had been in Dr. Graves' care all this time. That son of a bitch...but at the same time, how could I have known his heart would be here all this time?

"Meg?"

Daniel's voice brought her out of her thoughts. He looked at her with furrowed brows. "Meg, are you all right?"

"Uh, yeah." She nodded, pushing some of her hair coming out of her bun behind her ear. "Just have...a lot on my mind. I keep wishing that nobody would ever die." In spite of herself, Meg moved over and leaned in to rest her head against his chest, listening to his heart rhythm. It was a magical sound, but at the same time, it was too painful, because it would eventually give way. "Mostly because of me losing Dan, and my father."

He sighed and feebly brought an arm from his side and wrapped it around her, drawing her closer. The tubes in his arms, taped secure, made her want to rip them out of his perfect skin, but just because they looked so sick and wrong. No human being deserved this treatment, just as they did not deserve death. Being in a hospital room, lack of activity and excitement...it was all wrong. Just as doodling with body parts is wrong.

She allowed her hand which had traveled across his chest be wrapped in his, which was attached to the arm that brought her to him. "I wanted to die because I have no one else left in the world. Because I was sick that she left; I wanted her to marry me if only she hadn't..." He trailed off, the very mention of his ex a bad memory he didn't want to think about anymore. "Could you look in the top drawer for me?" He motioned to his right with his head. Disappointed at the brief loss of bodily contact, Meg sat up and reached for said drawer, opening it and seeing not much besides some magazines...and a little black box. Oh, God... Picking it up, knowing well this was what he meant, she opened it and gasped. The ring was an unbroken band of flaming diamonds blinding her to the point of whitening vision, a perfect blend of both old-fashioned and modern romance. "It would have been her wedding ring," Daniel whispered, heartbroken.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, her heart melting.

"I want you to have it."

She looked at him in shock. Seriously, he wanted her to have the ring of the woman who left him to die alone?! "Daniel, no, I can't..." His hand was on hers, the warm, pleasant feeling returning. He took the box from her and took the ring out, taking her right hand and placing it on the first finger; the other woman's ring finger must have been too large for hers, and Daniel knew it. The moment the cool platinum touched her finger, her skin felt like it was on ice, followed by a fire in her veins. She couldn't look up to see him smiling weakly at her, but she did turn her head upwards a little to let him know she was still listening to him.

"We had it going in the right direction. I spent everything I had on just this for her, just before I found out I was sick. We planned to wed as soon as possible, after graduation, though because my career as a brain surgeon had kicked off, we put marriage on hold, though I never took it off my mind. By the time I was ready to pop the question, I suffered the most excruciating pains ever and it was too late then. When the news was broken to her and I had shown her this..." He held her hand in his, the one with the new ring – her new ring – in a firm grasp that he never wanted to let go. "...she refused and ran out on me just like that. She was afraid of heartbreak and left me here." His voice croaked, wanting to cry; he would have found it in him to preserve his masculinity by trying not to let loose the tears, but his illness made it impossible. Meg felt like crying, too, when she finally told him about her father and Dan.

"Dan and I were going to get married, too, after graduation. But then...he died the same night as Daddy did. They were murdered, down in the morgue. It was terrible." She couldn't tell him any more than that, because chances were he knew what she was talking about. Meg could see it in his eyes, and they were full of understanding as she was showing him.

"I feel like I've known you forever, Meg," Daniel said softly. "You showed me genuine kindness, took me far more seriously than any other doctor has, and you're not leaving me as she did." He chewed his bottom lip as though frightened of what would happen if he said what he did next.

"I think I'm in love with you."

~o~

Herbert saw it all, heard it all as he stood outside the curtained doorway and pulled the drapes back by a slight inch. He seethed when he saw the terminally ill man speak so lovingly to HIS MEG and gave her a ring – the one he'd wanted to propose to his heartless girlfriend who left him to face his disease alone. He was giving the ring he'd longed to ask his former love's hand for to Meg because he loved her.

And Meg was falling for him, too.

He forced his body to move away from its position and made his way in the opposite direction to the crematorium. When he got there, Graves' buffoon Ernest was nowhere once again. The young fool spent his time there with food and mindless magazines, and the tendency to fool around with bodies; Herbert allowed himself to go as far as to think that the young fool would like his "lonely time" with the female ones when he couldn't get a living one for himself. Such a pity, Herbert thought with a sardonic laugh as he looked down at the body of his latest trophy, gathering a trash bag from lying out in a random spot. The body was pure male pride, but his eyes set themselves on the arms and legs.

The arms and legs of a bodybuilder who succumbed to a failed heart while working out in the gymnasium and the upper half of his body crushed by a weight that fell atop his chest and finished the job. The rest of the body wound up being useless and picked apart thanks to the insipid Wilbur Graves and his mostly clumsy hands. He successfully, though taking his time, got the arms and legs off and put the rest of the body in the incinerator since that was the whole purpose, the severed limbs a bloody mess on the table in the aftermath. But neither Graves nor Ernest would report it, knowing them, but Herbert had it in him to mop the mess up himself before stuffing the supplies back into their previous place. Once he was finished, he casually hauled up the heavy bag and luckily ran into Meg on the way out.

She regarded the garbage bag and frowned disapprovingly. "Seriously, it couldn't wait for one more hour?" She tapped on the face of her watch for emphasis. Herbert chuckled.

"Graves' fool was nowhere around, but we can't chance it, remember? Now would you help me get this to the car?" Their shift ended in one more hour, earlier than usual, and Meg had informed him she needed to pick up the groceries for them tonight. They were lucky no one caught them, and the car was locked safe and sound. Lt. Leslie Chapham was nowhere either, and Herbert was doing his best to keep a good eye out for that snooping old man. He knew the man wanted simple vengeance for his wife's return from the dead because it was his own fault he killed her. Taking it out on Herbert and Meg for it was stooping him to the lowest levels than any rat in the streets. What did he think he was, above the law like some savior from above?

Meg dropped him off at the house when their shift was over before going off to run the errands. Herbert watched her go as he started for the door with the bagged contents in his arms. When he reached the lab, he laid them down on the table, examining them with delighted pride. Heart down, hands down, other internal organs down, and now the main limbs. Torso and lower areas, as well as the head to go. The plan is proceeding as it needs to be. These arms and legs...toned, bronzed, and muscled from a great passion and a great deal for keeping in shape, so much energy and perhaps good in bed. Herbert had never been fond of these types, namely because he himself lacked this physique, and these were one of the types to ridicule him back in his younger years.

This one valued himself, perhaps was a ladies' man even. And now he was dead. Dropped from a heart attack. And he was so young, fit, and healthy. But no matter, like the others, he would still prove to be more useful than not at all. While Herbert had no respect for these athletic types, he didn't deserve to die. He had so much ahead of him only to fall to tragedy and end up being played as a toy by Graves' lousy little animal.

Here was the assembly so far, no matter how many times it would be mentioned: Daniel's heart at the center and the beginning...the feet of a professional dancer who took his life by severing his own feet...and now the legs and arms of the university bodybuilder. He could see it all as a far better masterpiece than David or the Mona Lisa even.

The alarm buzzed, informing him that Meg had returned home. Herbert had been retrieving the needed tools – chrome steel bars to serve as the "bones" to attach the parts, with smaller pieces for the "carpal bones" of the hands, and other sections – when he looked up at the clock and realized he hadn't noticed how much time had passed. Meg hadn't been gone for more than three-quarters of an hour.

He found her in the kitchen. Her soft golden sweater glittered under the overhead light, flashing as she moved around to retrieve a vase for the white flowers she brought home for the center of the table – gladiolus, which he remembered Dan owning at his old place. Herbert wasn't a flower person, but this was one of his favorites.

And to his surprise, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a black-and-white buzz leap onto the table and meow at him.

Meg whirled around from the sink and laughed as she walked over to pick up the thing. "I found him in the street," she told Herbert with a little smile, but the warning fire was clear in her blue eyes, telling him if he touched this poor creature, she would gut him herself. "He had no collar, so I brought him home. We could use a little baby, a little more life in here."

As long as you keep that damnable thing away from the lab. Herbert chose not to say the words, keeping his eyes on the feline which looked up at him with curious green eyes, not struggling or trying to get out of Meg's hold. Not like Rufus, Dan's infernal black beast which had been terrified of him since the first meeting. "You have an idea of a name?" he asked, returning the smile. The little fella liked him, and he was starting to like him, too.

She stroked the cat behind the ears, earning soft purrs as it melted into her caress. "Éclair. After one of my favorite pastry treats. That's what we'll call him."

He burst into a fit of giggles. Not a name he would have picked, but if that was what she wanted, so be it. "Not exactly what I would have called a pet." This discussion of pets was suddenly bringing him back to one other painful loss besides his mother, and Meg detected it.

"You ever had any pets? I never took you to have one, especially with..."

He knew where she was going, so he stopped her. "Don't bring him up again," he warned. "And in answer to your question, I used to have a cat. When I was much younger than I am now before Dr. Gruber died."

"What happened?" She was opened now and interested, no trace of anger left. He clenched his jaw; he knew that was coming, and once he told her more, she wouldn't stop trying to get him to tell her more. And the memory of the first and only pet he ever had before it died. He was so young then that he felt no other animal could replace the one he'd lost.

"We owned a precious little...gray cat," he spoke softly. "I was twelve years old, but then it suffered cancer, bled everywhere, and had to be put down." His gut clenched as he forced himself to look away. "No other small beast could replace it ever. I loved it as much as I loved my mother." He stopped as he realized too late that it left his body unwillingly, and the storm broke loose when Meg quickly caught on.

"Your...mother died?"

The name Éclair for the cat was my boyfriend's idea; he watches a lot of anime and got it from one of his favorites named "Cardfight Vanguard". And the story with the cat Herbert had before becoming a teenager is a true story, which happened to a gray cat I had of my own (if anyone has seen Stephen King's "Pet Sematary", that's the same kind of cat even though I don't know the exact species). He was such a good boy but had to be put down at seven years old. :'(

Meg's new ring from Daniel is also on my profile page, and yaaaay, some expansion of Herbert West's background in the next chapter. :D A tragic exploration thanks to many more sources I don't feel alone with. I so love help in these things; it's always refreshing to not be alone in anything.