Mireille waited for Victor to eat at least two pieces of toast and drink his coffee before putting the dishes in the sink and gathering the luggage together by the door.
Victor stood tall as he made his way to the door, though he let out a deep sigh. He took his car keys and handed them over to Mireille. “I can’t trust myself to make it there.” he told her, hoping it wouldn’t be too much of a burden.
Mireille smiled as she walked down the stairs with her husband, thinking back on her time being pregnant and her surprise and joy when she found out that it was Victor who adopted their son. “I love our baby with all my heart,” she whispered, entering back into the kitchen where she discovered Iago still sitting under William with his tail wagging. “Good boy,” she told him, petting his head.
Victor just sat down quietly, waving back to his son when he was waved at first. He tried to keep at least a somewhat relaxed and happy expression, even if his inner self was dreading this day already. “Did you enjoy your breakfast?” he asked William.
The boy nodded and tapped on his now empty plate.
"No, I haven’t told my parents…" she swallowed. "I did mention it to William… sort of."
"Well, I understand that. It’s going to be odd not having me around, I suppose. But I’m sure he won’t cry and get upset while you’re still around. He used to scream sometimes in his first week….actually quite a lot that month."
Mireille slowly walked up and wrapped her arms around him from behind. “You will not lose me. Not now, not ever. Same with William,” she told him, kissing his cheek. “Please come down and eat. We’ll need to drop William off with my parents before I take you to the hospital.”
A shudder ran down his back as she mentioned the “h” word, but he finally forced himself to stand up again with a soft whine and followed her back inside. “You…haven’t told them already where I’m going, have you?” he asked Mireille meekly.
"You’re only doing poorly if you continue to wallow in this pit you created for yourself," she hissed, her fingers starting to curl into the skirts of her dress. "You are being too hard on yourself. Too much pressure. The therapy will help, not just for your family but for yourself."
Victor sighed heavily and ran his hands over his face. “I know.” he said in defeat, looking down. “I know….we were fine a month ago and I wish more than anything that we could be that happy all the time. I don’t know how much you understand this but I can not lose you. Especially now that we have William.”
Victor could hear the steam whistle, and he felt an overwhelming sense of calm as the train chugged closer. But his chance at real freedom was torn away from him in the last few moments. He rolled onto his back and sat up with bewildered anger in his eyes. “What in God’s name were you thinking?! Why would you take something like that away from me?”
“You need not extend your sympathies, my friend,” urged the once-king in turn; whilst the gesture was condoned, it was unprecedented, and therefore dismissed in a light manner of speaking. “My crew and I travel far and wide across the vast expanse of space; we are satisfied with our lives,” he concluded.
Flexing the metal digits, he observed the entwine of several different colours of wiring. “I have an excellent Chief Medical Officer,” he began, “and an impeccable Chief Engineer. They co-operated in its build, adapting it to my state of injury; a work of genius, might I confess. Fascinating, is it not, Doctor?”
Victor turned his head away for a moment, still trying to get back in control of his emotions, even if he was calming down. His thoughts were still in a slight disarray and as long as he remembered to keep breathing, he would be fine in a few minutes. “True, but it’s difficult to go on living when you know your family has been taken from you. I’m just relieved to hear that it seems they have returned to you,” A smile cracked out of the corner of his lips for a moment.
His eyes then focused back on the hand. “I admit I have not seen an automatonic limb or appendage or…digit yet. The thought has passed me a few times in studying and attempting to create artificial parts of the body, though obviously this is the most state of the art. I’m impressed.”
Mireille shifted uncomfortably. “For the last time, no one is going to think you are insane. Insane would be you raving and dragged away in a straight jacket and thrown into a padded room. That’s NOT how this is going to go,” she said, keeping her voice as calm as possible. She didn’t dare comment on the monster who seems to have made friends with their son.
"That doesn’t mean that other people will see the situation as clearly as you do." he retorted, staring straight out beyond his backyard. "I made a promise to your father that I would be a good man to you. Every day that I live…and maybe afterwards. I’m obviously not doing a very good job of it."
Mireille took a deep breath and pushed open the door just as Victor was walking out onto the balcony. She quietly followed after him and leaned up against the door frame. “You’re scaring me a little… are you sure you’re ok?” she asked quietly.
"I’m going into a goddamn mental facility with the possibility of people knowing that I’m insane, all whilst leaving my family alone while the murderer of my first wife is very close by. Possibly even watching us right now. No, I’m not really okay." he told her sternly, though he was sure to keep his voice down as he curled up in a chair.
Mireille rose from her chair. “I’m going to check on papa,” she told her baby son. She ordered Iago to stay with him and the puppy didn’t need to be told twice, staring up at the baby in hopes of dropped food.
She quickly went up the stairs and softly knocked on the bedroom door. “Victor..? Victor, please come out,” she called softly through the wood.
William could see the puppy wagging his tail and he caught on to what he wanted, so he slid a few pieces of his egg off his tray to make him happy.
Victor struggled to move. “I’m fine, thanks.” he told Mireille in a clear,half-calm voice. He took a deep breath and looked out to the balcony, that seemed like a good place to clear his mind. He finally got up and started heading to the sliding glass door.