Chapter Text
It was foolish to think those chains were sufficient, was Victor Frankenstein’s first waking thought as he was pulled from his already restless sleep by the sound and movement beside his makeshift bed.
Blearily he opened his eyes, the giant hulking silhouette of his creation uncomfortably close in the sliver of moonlight that had come through the break in the curtains. With a sigh he fumbled to light a nearby candle and took far too much pleasure in how the being flinched at the switch of light.
He would have to lock it somewhere until he could come up with a more secure arrangement in the morning.
“Come on then.” He hissed, drawing up and throwing on a house coat before grasping the creature’s wrist and drawing it stumblingly after himself. Perhaps one of the tower’s smaller storerooms could be barricaded.
But as he made his way across the landing, he noted a light steadily coming up from the floor below. He knew William’s footsteps inherently and they did not match, so there was only one other person it could be wandering the building at such a time, and that she had likely gone looking for the creature was troublesome.
“Nearly there!” He announced in a loud whisper, loud enough to be heard in the still night air, noting that Elizabeth had stopped her ascent. “Very good.” He rasped and then lead the creature into the main bathroom. Shoving it away before quickly lighting up the room and turning on the bath’s taps. The gurning noise of the pipe system was decipherably loud, the water residually warm from where the new heating system had worked its ingenuity earlier.
He had only ever strip washed his creation prior, water too much a risk to its fresh patchwork of flesh. But now in some ways he could not be bothered with such tedious diligence and also cleaning it entirely was probably overdue.
Out of the corner of his eye a mirror belied that there was a light at the still slightly open door and with a sort of pith he made a point of striding over and opening it more so, coming face to face with Elizabeth, wearing much too flimsy a nightgown to be perceived by menfolk of any kind.
“Forgive me.” He cooed, using his body to block her view, and the creature’s view of her. “Now that my creation has been uncovered, there is no need to keep it below, but I need to wash it.”
“Him.” Was all she corrected was her gentle firmness, and Victor plastered on a smile that was all too forced.
“Yes, Him.” He sighed, blinking heavily before looking deliberately at her sweet rosy mouth rather than into her beautiful, intelligent eyes that could so easily pierce him. “So, I must maintain his modesty.”
That sent her on her way with a quiet goodnight, and then he was back alone with the entity he invented. It murmured his name softly as he clicked the door shut, and Victor chewed on his gums in thought.
He did not want to deal with his creation, and his underlying anger at the mere thought of having to do such menial care for it made him itch to attack it, to strike it, to make it shy away and shudder in fear. But he was no fool. Elizabeth was clearly so fascinated by it and had already sought to accuse him of malignance towards it. It would be better to suffer its inanity and lack of intelligence and re-establish its clinginess as before. She would then see that it was him she ought to be transfixed with. Not only had he created life, but he could also nurture it, and then perhaps when it failed to improve and she could see how its development was stunted, at least she could comfort his well-founded anguish.
“Time to bathe.” Victor sighed, leading the being towards the water and dipping its hand in so it could feel the amiable temperature. Thankfully it did not resist when he led it to step into the tub it barely fit into, nor did it react when he peeled the last of its bandages away exposing the entirety of body.
He regretted being so charitable in ensuring its frame was well proportioned. He should have given it nothing. He managed to make it sit quickly without sloshing the water everywhere.
The bathing session was perfunctory at best, he took a flannel and gently wiped off the grime from its upper body and arms, as well as its face and head, and with all that done then exposed a new issue. What on earth would he do with it now? How would he even dress it?
Perhaps it was the late-night tiredness allowing his brain to come up with successful but rudimentary ideas, but he managed to approximately clothe it. His poor house coat was a dutiful sacrifice, with its sleeves cut off and the armholes widened, and a slice cut into the back, his creation’s frame could just about fit into it and be fully covered.
And then in the room where he was supposed to sleep, he managed a further approximation of a makeshift bed beside his own. By pulling a rug into place as a thin mattress and tearing down the curtains as a blanket. Most begrudgingly he sacrificed a pillow as well in hopes it would be enough.
“Sleep.” Victor hissed from his sofa bed as the creature shifted around far too much, daring to suggest it was not tired in the slightest. He could feel the sharp creep of pain lance quickly through his temple and eye, threatening a headache or worse, a migraine, if he could not rest. “Sleeeeeeeeeeepppp.”
“Sl..eee.p,” was parroted backed to him in that low timbre of a voice, and Victor could feel his consciousness fade, feeling little more than dread and discomfort at the creature uttering a new word he had been previously pestering for