Now that Herbert is out of the prison, we're now getting into him and Heather at the possible start of a relationship. :) That includes getting him to reconcile with Dan IF that is even possible, which it is. Because we all know deep down, despite all the troubles, they're a team. But what about Francesca warming up to him?

Chapter Nine

Confessions

Francesca was in the middle of making dinner when Dan finally came home. She was at the stove in a jewel-toned turtleneck and black leggings, her necklace layered and chained, bushy sandy mane cascading down her back. The sight of her, and the sight of their son in the living room with the TV on – he stopped there to see the same story still playing, but Adrian paid it no mind as he focused instead on his cars and Lego structures.

"...latest news is further word on the riot at the Arkham State Penitentiary: there have been reports of several bodies found mutilated and some strung up by their necks, but no fingerprints or DNA could prove who was responsible for the start, for this appears to be a very brutal, very random riot broken out by one or two inmates. Countless guards were beaten and killed, several inmates murdered, and the Warden himself was shocked to death in the electric chair reserved for those on Death Row. An extra body found was the decapitated corpse of a young journalist of the Arkham Record, twenty-three-year-old Laura Olney. We have no further word yet, but the prison doctor, Heather Phillips, will be doing everything she can to help get the prison back in order once she returns to the site since she and an assistant of hers by the name of Frances Dexter were last seen taking a critically injured inmate to the general hospital of Miskatonic –"

Hearing Heather's name as well as her "assistant", Francesca whipped around from the stove where the pasta was boiling and gasped. "Oh, my God, she's alive then."

"And her assistant we know," Dan agreed. West. I know her well enough to know she wouldn't require an assistant in that place. She's too independent. He turned to face his wife and looked down to the ground, avoiding her gaze, sighing and shaking his head. "She needs us, Fran. The both of them."

She nodded. "I know."

~o~

She and Herbert had been back at her apartment for a little under a while now, but she felt no better. Taking a drink of beer from the fridge eased her senses, but it did not erase her memory of murdering Laura in the execution room. She couldn't believe she did that; she watched Herbert from the doorway of the kitchen, still leaning against the counter while he was sorting through his bag to make sure the paperwork was in order. He'd said nothing upon taking in the sight of her home but gave it a simple "Hmm", which meant he didn't hate it, but he didn't like it either. It seemed living surroundings didn't mean much to him. And then he asked her the question which sort of lightened it up if not all the way. "'Frances Dexter'?"

She gave a little laugh empty of humor. "A guy I knew in college whom I haven't seen since leaving."

Laura's decapitated body still played in her memory over and over, a sight she knew she would never forget as she never forgot Emily's battered body reaching out to her, begging her to not let her go when they both knew there wasn't anything to do. Of course she knew all along there was nothing to do for her sister now, but she'd had a small amount of hope. And Laura...she hadn't been strong enough to resist the Warden, her killer. If this was the case, what about anyone else Herbert would subject? Pray there's a chance ANY ONE of them will make it, she prayed silently to a God she wasn't sure existed. Her beliefs had not much to do with the field of medicine, thanks to Herbert's "Religion has got nothing to do with this".

And then being close to Herbert, his warm hands on her face, him holding her to him, that sensation through her body that – was this really more than just a crush? She wasn't afraid to admit that she did feel more than that, but if Herbert responded in a way she should have expected, she'd be ultimately humiliated. He was all she had left, besides Dan and Francesca. But they were in Boston, and Arkham was just north of it.

He meant it when he said if anything happened to me, he wouldn't know how to continue on, her mental voice whispered. You could see it in his eyes...so dark, mysterious and calculating, so honest. But he still did sick stuff, to which she was confused now. The Warden had it coming to him, and Laura snuck their secrets for her story. Selfish motivation, that was. But still, she might have actually cared about you. Every person has a motivation of their own. They do anything to get what they want. It's natural.

NO! the other part screamed. A friend NEVER does that to another friend. Bianca never did that to you, neither did Dan and Fran.

She wanted to confront Herbert, try and get him to open up more than what he told her when the phone in her kitchen rang. She was startled out of her wits when she answered it. "H-hello?"

"Hi, Heather. It's Dan. I saw everything on the news. Are you okay?" He sounded panicked underneath his calm.

Heather looked over her shoulder to Herbert looking at her briefly – if you would call ten seconds or so brief – before crossing away and out of her line of vision. "Heather?" Dan questioned, bringing her back to life.

"Oh, yeah, I'm okay," she answered shakily. "But my friend, a reporter who was doing a story there, was killed."

"Yeah, I'm sorry to hear that. Heather, listen to me. I know he's there with you. Between you and I, and Francesca, but we know he's there."

Knew you'd catch up. "He is here, but he can't know of us..." she whispered as low as she could, jumping and shrieking when she heard his voice in the doorway. And he wasn't happy, either; his legendary empty glare was back, strengthened by a familiar framed picture in his hands.

"No need to keep your voice to a whisper, Heather. I would rather you put him on speaker, if you must," he said coldly, nodding to the receiver. She glared at him back and reached to push the button before speaking.

"You're on speakerphone now, Dan. He's right here." And I don't know if I should be surprised he'd catch on eventually. He's a genius, after all.

"West." Dan's voice was strained.

"Long time no hear, Daniel," he replied with a small smile.

"Did you plan all of that? You plan your escape, still want to pay me back? I know you do, that last day you looked my way."

Heather remained silent as she watched back and forth between the phone she now laid on the counter and the man in her house; his crisp white shirt was still stained with blood, but through it, she could make out the outline of his semi-strong build. In her fantasies, she imagined running her hands up and down that, whatever he looked like now. Herbert's laugh was sardonic and cool. "Oh, no. Well, I admit I am heartbroken..." His lips were pouting even though Dan couldn't see him, and Heather realized she'd never seen that side of him, which she thought was cute. "...that you turned against me. We were friends, Dan; you were my first and only true friend, and what we did together as a team –"

"Was wrong," Dan cut in sharply. "Our great work turned into something ghoulish and unnatural. Meg's heart and it ended worse than ever, look where that got us both." Oh, God, if they were going to fight, they had to at least do it elsewhere. Heather interrupted him.

"Guys, please, enough has happened for one night. Dan, I don't expect you to believe me, but he's found it. The missing link to all of this," she said, looking up at Herbert and seeing his eyes glitter at her defending him.

Dan scoffed. "Oh, I knew you wouldn't stop this. And I don't believe a word of that. Nothing went anywhere else, and nothing improved."

"But it has," Herbert ground out. "It's called the NPE, but perhaps I should demonstrate this in person if you're interested."

"No," Dan answered. "I have a family now and a successful career; the last thing I want to do is put them in jeopardy. You did enough to my life as it is."

"You don't have to be active in this," Heather said, pushing her hair behind her ears. "Just be updated, like you asked of me; is that too much to ask?"

There was silence for a second before Dan sighed. "Okay, fine, but only for you, Heather. West, tell me about this...missing piece?"

He smirked in triumph. "It's called the Nano-Plasmic Energy, which you might see as the 'soul'. Leaves the body not long after death, can be extracted for a donor and restore the subject to full reason." If their will is strong enough, Heather thought. "And it works," Herbert finished. "If you saw, Dan, you'd understand it better."

"Maybe. I'll think about it. In the meantime, the both of you please be careful, and I hope you're still coming by Saturday. Or maybe not," he added. "With what happened tonight. Francesca and I would love it if you would explain it all. But not in front of our son."

Herbert snorted and laughed at the same time. "What, you and the Italian are still together, and now you have a child?"

"We've been married for nine years, West, thank you very much," Francesca's voice snapped in, making Heather and her husband on the other line both laugh, but Herbert seethed.

"Well, pleasure to hear from you again, Francesca."

"I wish I could say the same for you. If Heather doesn't make it Saturday, I wonder how you'll fare on your own on the way here if anyone recognizes you."

It had been a long night, and Heather truly hated drama this late. "You guys, it's late. Let's talk about this tomorrow, and I know the prison will need me again soon. Good night now, you two." The Cain couple returned it before being the first to disconnect the line, and once that was finished, she was faced once more with Herbert West, whose face hardened and made her shrink under his eyes. "Are you going to blow up on the fact I never told you Dan Cain was a friend of mine?"

"Or your mentor in medical school," he answered. He shook his head slightly. "No, I knew you would mention when you were ready; either that or let me find out myself."

"I kept quiet for a reason," she said plainly. "Protection reasons you must know."

"In case I want to pay him back for thirteen years prior." Herbert chuckled and moved to squeeze himself into the tiny space between the kitchen stove and counter to the other end where the window was. His body touched hers along the way, sending that feeling through her again. "Of course, the thought did cross my mind, but now that we've spoken again, I suppose I shouldn't hold a grudge forever. Maybe with a little bit more time, he might actually warm up to me again. Could you get me some water, please? No ice."

Heather turned around and reached up to open a cupboard, pulling out a glass and turning the cold water on, offering it to him then. She watched how his neck bobbed with each swallow, and it made her wonder how it would react beneath her teeth...she couldn't shake off the image. "I don't think Francesca will, for sure," she said, remembering when Dan's Italian wife stated how "blasphemic" Herbert West was, with the little bit of his experiments she'd seen, as well as this "assembly of women's body parts" which attacked her that night in the laboratory. Herbert scoffed.

"I never really fared well with her anyways. As I've said, women were trouble, always sticking their noses where they didn't belong." His offensive view on her side of the species shocked Heather and, as she said, offended her.

"Excuse me, but I'm a woman, and I did nothing but support you!" she exclaimed, taking a step forward and sticking her chin up at him.

He looked her down in amusement. "You certainly did, but your hesitancy and caution reminds me so much of your friend here." He held up the picture of her and Dan when she had just graduated high school and ready to go off to med school. "Not that I am against it anyways. It makes me happy to know someone was willing to go along with me on this." He handed it to her, and she took it, holding it closer to her heart.

She took the time to think this over. He likes me only because I go along with him? This hurts more than earlier did. She was still a human being, and Laura had still been her friend even though she used her, and Heather still unwillingly killed her. It was like she'd killed Emily herself...no, don't go there. Emily loved you, Laura used you. They might be nearly the same in appearance and careers, but they're NOT the same in heart and soul. Herbert had been right about Laura when he said she was trouble. So yeah, you gotta give him credit about women being trouble.

But I am still a woman, she thought indignantly. "Would you like somebody more than just going along with you?"

He stared her down. "If you're referring to your 'hands on' in the lab, let me assure you that you have done a fine job with it."

She gaped at him. "Are you saying you actually liked me touching you?" And I thought he would deny it, preserve his genuine pride. "I'd have thought you would keep this to yourself for the sake of your dignity."

Herbert chuckled deeply, the sound making her nerves rattle again. "Duty comes above everything else."

"But have you ever been with a woman before?" Heather had the idea he would have because he was a man; men had needs, but Herbert West was not just any man. He never seemed to acknowledge physical contact, devoted his life to his research from what Dan had told her, and she'd seen so herself. But now that he'd conquered death, what would he do with his life now? He was well a little past his fourth decade, and he was unmarried with nobody to leave behind his legacy. Heather knew she'd wanted to get married one day and have a family, but her career had to come first before that. She was never a whole romantic, having just her little infatuation with this man all her teenage years and now was working beside him, but would he be willing to do that?

Heather wasn't afraid to tie the knot if she knew the man she would be with was someone like her, even when they quarreled, because all couples fought. There was still a lot she wanted to know about Herbert, but she doubted he'd be willing to open up. "Ever want to be with someone you know you can share your burdens with?"

He said nothing, just moved past her and out of the kitchen. She gawked at him, unsure of what to do. "I need these washed," he called, changing the subject altogether. She poked her head out to see him walking into her bedroom. "Would it be too much?"

Heather heard the sound of clothes falling, and blushed. She didn't want to peek in and see him naked as much as she wanted to; it was a violation of privacy, and she had never been a peeping tom. But then it dawned on her that she had no extra to give him until she washed his clothes downstairs in the laundry room! Guess she had no choice but to go on in there. She took cautious steps towards her room and stepped in, keeping her eyes adverted down and announced her presence. From the corner of her eye, she saw Herbert tense when he had just finished stripping. His back had been to her, and he was wearing a pair of briefs.

Her cheeks burned to a near thousand-degree level when she saw him. His skin was shockingly pale; did he ever get some sun, some Vitamin D in him? He had apparently been slender at one point, having put on just a tiny bit of weight if not wholly rounded. His stomach was still flat, though she could see some fat there to give him a mildly healthy look, and his hips were narrower than his upper torso, which was lean and sporting a small plain of dark hair on his chest, as well as the smaller trail beneath his navel and disappearing beneath his dark gray briefs. She didn't know how long she'd been staring until his throat was cleared.

"How long will they be?" he asked, holding out his clothes in a folded bundle; when she took them, her fingers made contact with his warm skin once again.

"Fifty minutes, because I have some stuff to go in, too," she answered, gulping. Her heart was racing as she looked into his eyes again; she needed to grab some of her other stuff fast and hurried over to the laundry basket she kept behind her changing screen where some clothes filled it halfway. "And another fifty in the dryer."

"Almost two hours," he stated plainly. "In the meantime, I'll be wandering about your house with nothing." Herbert sounded amused at this, like it didn't bother him, or maybe he was trying to hide his modesty. He must be self-conscious about his body, like I am with mine.

"Yeah, I'd have to get you something more casual in the meantime," Heather answered, then looked down to see that she was still in her partially bloodied clothes, her lab coat hung up at the door and still covered with Laura's blood, as well as her own. How could she forget that she was still covered with it in her face? She noticed this, as well as the bruise above her eye, when she saw herself in the bathroom mirror, having abandoned the laundry basket to make sure. Herbert was watching her, now sitting on the foot of her bed, expression unreadable and probably internally wishing he was dressed. She respected his privacy, but at the same time wished he could stay like that for her hungry eyes and growing throbbing pleasure at a certain part of her body which she subjected her fantasies about him.

~o~

Heather had seen him naked. Herbert sat on her bed, which was soft and comfortable in contrast to his cot that he wanted to sleep in it, but he didn't think Heather would approve of a man in her own room for the night. But that was beside the present point; she'd seen him naked, but it was nowhere near humiliating as it had been when he was first taken to the prison and to the showers, where he was forcibly stripped by the guards and his naked body washed down with heavy sprays that stung his flesh more painfully than any burns he ever would have gotten. And Brando overseeing it all with Moncho by his side, for his own amusement. That smile the whole time when he saw my body, even allowed the guards to actually touch me down without penetration.

He did not miss Heather's blushing face when she saw him. Perhaps he should have warned her, but then again, he didn't. He decided maybe he ought to shower, waiting for her to finish washing her face off in the adjacent bathroom before he did. He felt a little more modest about the main package of his masculinity to be seen by her right now. The water in there stopped running, which was his cue, and she was out soon, heading for her small closet and opening it to pull out a t-shirt and jeans. "You can use my shower if you want, while I'm out," she told him, heading over to the Asian-styled changing screen. "I'll drop the laundry off and then head out for some things. Get you some casual clothes. Anything in mind in particular?"

Herbert furrowed his brows at the idea of blending in with the rest of the people around him, but perhaps that was for the best in case anybody recognized him. He had never been fond of casual wear, preferring his old white and black uniform. "Anything as long as it isn't something that makes me look foolish."

She laughed from behind the screen; her blouse and bra were thrown over. "Believe me, you won't. And help yourself to what I have in the fridge while I grab some more groceries, too. They'll be open all night."

Her bathroom was all-over Tuscan tile with the pops of white porcelain, and a mirror so shiny he thought his vision would go blind. But nevertheless, it was better in appearance than the communal showers of the penitentiary, and he would have his privacy and a decent shower all to himself. He was just about to close the door and take off his underwear when Heather's voice stopped him again. Hiding his body behind the door, he stuck his head out to meet her face once again.

"Herbert..." she said softly, swallowing so a minor Adam's apple formed in her delicate little neck. "...did you really mean it when you said if something happened to me, you would never forgive yourself?"

He didn't remember saying it that way, but yes, that was nearly the same when he said there would be no one else he could trust with his research. "Yes," he answered softly, slowly opening the door a little wider so they were face to face, body to body but not touching like they had in the kitchen. As much as he wanted to feel her close to him again. In another life, this would have terrified him, but he was older and much wiser now, and he'd accomplished his goal but had yet to show it to the world as he always wanted to do.

And he couldn't stop thinking about what Heather had asked him, and it made him infuriated: "Ever want to be with someone you know you can share your burdens with?"

Yes, I do. I want it more than anything, but how could I possibly get this through to her? These are my secrets and my own. But looking deep into her cerulean orbs, this was somebody he couldn't deny he harbored a deep longing for that he never thought he would for anybody...until she came into his life.

Oooh-ooh, looks like the Ice Man is finally heating up. ;D This couple has been fun to do, and there's more to come. They're not exactly all over each other, just being themselves, and that's why I love them.