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Lyle had been busy clipping film, arranging the good shots from the bad into neat little towering piles, when someone had knocked on his door. He paused. Another knock, and this time the cadence seemed familiar. It was nothing like the frantic or wet knocks of the cursed who prowled the halls, so he didn’t hesitate to amble over to the door. Since he wasn’t stupid, he still peered through the peephole.
His heart stopped. Standing on the other side of the door, doing his typical (painfully cute) nervous shuffle, was Sam.
He was looking a little worse for wear, clothes a little more dirty and eyes a bit more wilder than usual. Nothing too unusual considering the current state of the apartments, but it always broke Lyle’s heart nonetheless.
Not keen on keeping Sam waiting, he quickly unlocked the door, making sure to not hit him with it. The noise and speed of it got Sam’s attention, his wide eyes blinking as Lyle loomed into his space.
“Sam! Hi, its-, er, its been a while, huh?” his words tumbled out, quickly. He could feel his grin stretch too wide, feel himself get too eager.
Despite this, Sam never seemed to mind. He only stood there, smiling sheepishly. Lyle noted that his eye bags had somehow gotten even deeper, a feat which he hadn’t thought was possible.
“Yeah, it has.”
Something about Sam seemed to be off, but Lyle didn’t get the chance to look the other over further before the sound of something breaking in the distance caused them both to wince.
“Uh, can I-” Sam pointed behind Lyle. Thank god he’d taken the time to lock and shut the darkroom. His diligence paid off.
“Oh! Yes, please, uh- after you!”
The pair quickly hurried inside, not wanting to attract the attention of any wandering cursed. Lyle led them to the living room, letting Sam take the couch as he sat on the floor, excess limbs sprawling out of sight under his cloak.
Mentally, Lyle took stock of the situation. While Sam had been making an effort to drop by more often, no doubt due in part to the now cramped nature of his apartment, these visits usually did start with some sort of reason. Either a question, a request, something on Sam's part that Lyle could fulfill.
This time was different.
Sam seemed out of it, more so than usual. He noticed that the other was staring off into space a bit more, curling in on himself subconsciously. He frowned. Something surely had to have happened, but as to why the other was staying quiet, he couldn’t quite piece together.
Lyle cleared his throat(s?), and Sam snapped out of his haze to look at him.
“So, uh, it's not like I mind the surprise visit, but what brings you here?”
Sam hummed.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to figure out how to word the.. Thing I need to ask you.”
Lyle’s stomach dropped. There were a lot of not good things that Sam could have found out. Could have been asking after. His gaze drifted to his darkroom, but only for a moment.
“Th-thing?” Lyle winced at himself. The question was dripping with fear and panic, and Sam’s eyes widened.
“It’s- its not bad! Just- well.” Sam sucked his teeth, rubbed the back of his neck.
“..It's a whole can of worms?” he finally settled on, turning to properly look at Lyle.
Lyle's gears churned, whirring furiously. His upper arms fidgeted restlessly.
“Oh! Uh- okay?” Lyle’s voice cracked at the end of that statement, and he mentally kicked himself.
“God I’m just making this worse-” Sam muttered, running a hand down his face.
Aiming to rip off the band aid quickly, and assure Lyle that it really wasn’t that bad, Sam came out with it.
“You don’t happen to know how to change a diaper, do you?”
Out of literally anything Sam could have said, this was NOWHERE near where Lyle thought this conversation would go. He could PHYSICALLY feel his eyes (all however fucking many of them there were) dilate, pupils shrinking then expanding into wide saucers.
“YOU HAVE A BABY???” Lyle blurted out, unable to stop himself from getting loud. Just when his brain went to go, hey maybe this is just a prank, he caught Sam making another very sheepish expression.
“Wh- How- WHERE?” Lyle frantically asked, a deluge of questions cropping up as his mind struggled to grapple with everything that the knowledge currently brought. Can of worms was the understatement of the year. Lyle felt his grip on his cloak slip, dislodged by his countless feet stamping with anxiety and nerves. Sam looked frantic as he put his hands out in front of him.
“The baby’s safe! It's- uh- upstairs in my apartment with Hellen.” Lyle’s eyes bugged out.
“YOU LEFT YOUR BABY WITH BUDGET JASON VOORHEES??” his normal verbal filter had been lost several minutes ago, and he only had part of mind to be ashamed at how Sam winced at that statement.
“The baby is really attached to her, and she’s pretty good with it? It only likes to be held by me or her so, I didn’t have much of a choice if I wanted to come down here.” Sam replied placatingly, speaking evenly and calmly despite how much Lyle was panicking. His voice wavered though, belying his true nerves.
Lyle sighed. Of course Sam, caring, kind, thoughtful Sam, had left the baby in good care. Lyle kicked himself for ever doubting him. Still, his skin crawled with leftover anxiety, worrying about all the what-ifs and hows of the situation
“Okay- Okay.” he said, more to himself than to Sam. He drew a deep breath.
“Alright. I’m s- I’m sorry for getting so loud. To answer your question- I do.”
Sam lit up.
“You do??”
It was like a massive weight had been taken off the others shoulders, and it looked like Sam was seriously about to cry from relief.
“Oh god I was so worried.” Sam muttered, and Lyle's heart twisted. He’d seen how well Sam had taken care of the other kids, trying everything to keep himself and them together, happy and whole. Not knowing how to properly take care of yet another had been no doubt driving him to madness, fretting and worrying about this baby’s safety and comfort. The fear of it not surviving because Sam couldn’t get it together was no doubt hovering over him like a specter.
A greedy, dark part of him was glad. Glad to be the one to give Sam the out, to be His savior.
Lyle beamed. Sam was still fighting back tears on his couch, and he reached a calming hand up, unable to resist the siren call of providing Sam with more comfort, knowledge that Lyle was here to help, no matter the personal cost. So fixed on Sam’s face, he did not notice the limpness of the other sleeve, and went to grasp Sam's left upper arm.
He didn’t register the emptiness of the sleeve at first. Nor the bundle of only fabric resting in the palm of his hand. It was only when he looked down, let his brain chug a few seconds longer, did he realize.
Lyle’s smile fell. He grasped again. Nothing. When he pulled the sleeve down, brain expecting some kind of trick or hallucination, Sam yelped. His face was contorted in pain, and in shock Lyle let go.
He registered the calming sound of Sam’s voice, tinged with panic and pain, as he looked at his palm. It was streaked with blood. Shock and fear gripped every part of his now massive body.
==
When Lyle woke up, he was not laying on his hardwood floor. This perplexed his addled head (which was still swimming very hard thank you Very much), as there was no physical way he could have fallen onto the couch. He (purposefully) hadn’t been THAT close to Sam, so why..?
Groaning, one of his many lenses blinked open. Discordantly, they began zooming, focusing without aim as their owner tried to pull himself together. Eventually, the majority of them caught onto the whole “being covered by a cloak thing”, and opted to blink shut into a standby state. Thank god that feature had carried over, otherwise his pictures and mind would still be shit.
As his eyes blinked open, his hands and paws began to move as well, pulling his torso up as he did every morning since he’d woken up cursed. His trusty cloak was still pinned firmly in place, and good thing, as Sam’s worried face swam into view.
The previous moment came back to him in bits and pieces, memory further jogged by Sam's lack of sweater. The shorter under shirt he’d been wearing under it only highlighted the now-missing limb further, rubbing in the fact that Lyle HADN'T FUCKING NOTICED IT GONE, all the way back when Sam had first arrived at his door. No wonder Sam looked worse for wear, no fucking wonder at all.
And the baby. AND HE’D GONE AND PASSED OUT!
“…Lyle?” Sam asked hesitantly.
Lyle stared back at Sam blankly.
“Did- can you hear me?” Sam enunciated louder.
“Yes- Ju- Just thinking.”
He held up three fingers, and Lyle caught on.
“Three, and no I didn’t hit my head or- well- I didn’t hit it that hard.”
Sam looked relieved.
“Oh, thank god. I managed to get something under your head in time, but something made such a weird crunch that i got nervous- well.”
Under his head? Lyle cast a set of eyes downward. Sure enough, the soft thing Lyle had been laying on wasn’t something that had miraculously sprouted in his living room. What had been under his head was a piece of Sam’s outerwear, one of the many soft and nondescript sweaters the other wore around the apartments. His eyes boggled, before the sound of Sam speaking forced the brunt of his attention back.
“Just- sorry for making you black out? If it's any consolation these are- these should be the only big changes that have happened since i’ve been gone.”
He tapped a finger to his chin.
“Well, at least, for now.”
Sam was hitting a new record in previously uncharted territories of “how many times can Lyle become mortally terrified for both himself and people he cared about”.
Lyle's lense twitched.
“Sam I swear to GOD- if you look outside-“
“Dyeing my hair! Just dyeing my hair!!!!” Sam held up his hands defensively.
“That's what I meant- uh. Lyle, should I get you some water or something?”
Lyle had always been a bit of an open book in the expression department, and the stress of 2 VERY LARGE life changes were probably reading bright and clear on his face. It was nice of Sam to be polite, potentially pretend otherwise, but Lyle surely looked like a wreck if even SAM was sort of commenting on it. Against better judgement, Lyle heaved himself upright from where he’d been sprawled out on the floor.
“No I'm- I'm going to make myself some tea or something.” He paused.
“Do you want any?”
“Uh, no, just some water is good for me. Do you need any help?”
Lyle shook his head.
“No thanks, I kinda. Uh. Take up a lot of room.” It never got any less awkward to say that out loud.
Sam nodded, and thankfully didn’t press the issue further.
“Oh- well. Just holler if you need me, I guess.”
Lyle nodded, and gingerly made his way to the little kitchenette around the corner.
Once he was out of Sam’s sigh in the kitchen, Lyle passed by the tea cabinet, ignoring it in favor of going STRAIGHT to the freezer. He jimmied the extremely mangled door open (one of the first casualties following his quote unquote metamorphosis) and stuck one of his normal hands on the first thing he could find.
It ended up being a cold compress, its coolness working to wind Lyle down from the peak of anxiety he’d been riding. It also served to keep his body in line, cooling the heated metal and electronics of his form. Someone, maybe it had been Jeanne? had taught him that little trick, just something to stave off a wave of stubborn anxiety. He sighed at the feeling, lingering just a little bit longer before he pulled himself back.
The door was kicked shut with a metallic paw, as he turned his attention back to his initial goal. The tiny cupboard held his mugs and wooden tea bag box, which he set on the counter to properly rifle through. Using some side lenses and paws, his “202X National Geographic Pictures Union” mug was settled onto the counter, and with his main hands he picked up some Earl Grey & Lavender tea mix (non caffeinated, of course). He filled the mug with water, heated it up in the microwave, and dumped a little bit of sugar in before tearing the tea bag out to join it. Lyle stirred it idly as he waited for the tea to steep, impatiently dunking and redunking it before pulling the tea bag free. After snagging a cup of water, he opted to hurry back to the living room. His nerves didn’t like the idea of leaving Sam alone in his apartment for too long.
Sam was spacing out on the couch when he got back, only jumping a little as Lyle handed out his cup for him. A small thanks was offered once Sam got his bearings, and Lyle settled back down on the floor to sip his tea.
“So, when do you think you could show me how to change ‘em?”
“..Show you? Sam, I thought I was changing the baby.”
“What? I couldn’t ask you to do that!!”
“Di- did you really think you were going to be able to change it? Sam, you just lost your arm! There's no way you got acclimated THAT fast.”
Lyle sighed.
“Besides, I don't know why you thought I wouldn't do it for you. People don’t just lose their limbs everyday, and most people don’t just leave them to flounder with the loss!”
And I have a bighuge crush on you so literally anything you’d want I'd bend over backwards to get you. Is the bit that Lyle did NOT say outloud.
Sam pulled at a loose thread on his sweater, face taut with some sort of emotion. Lyle really hoped he hadn’t come off too weird.
“Well- okay. Thank you Lyle. I think I really did think I could do it.”
He paused.
“It doesn’t feel real, yet. Maybe that's just the painkillers talking, but this-“
Sam wiggled his left shoulder, gingerly moving the stump with the motion.
“Just. I don’t know- Like tomorrow I’ll just wake up and it’ll be back.”
Sam stared at it.
Lyle didn't get it, the absence. But he did understand the mourning. Oh, the mourning had never stopped. Even breathing was a reminder of everything that had gone, either completely changed or that had been outright grafted on. His body was unwieldy, prone to injuries that he’d never even considered as a human.
Sam shook his head.
“I- I know it's stupid. I’m not losing it, I swear.”
“You-Your not. I get it. Sometimes, if i close my eyes, this”
Lyle gestured down his front
“-this feels like how it used to be.”
Sam’s face twisted, in sympathy or pity, Lyle couldn’t truly tell.
It didn’t really matter to him, anyway. Sam’s gaze alone was good enough.
Sam nodded, and that was good enough too. A small silence stretched on between them.
“So, about the baby- how exactly do you want me to. Uh. Change it?”
Sam looked at him quizzically.
“Like, are you gonna bring em’ here or should I come up to the apartment.”
Upon realizing that Lyle hadn’t magically become 60% stupider in the ten seconds he’d been looking at him, the other perked up.
“Oh, right. What’s a good time for you, I probably need to check with Hellen on how we’re gonna do this.”
Sam scratched his face.
“I don’t wanna just disappear with the little guy, and if we needed you to come up she would be good backup. I know she's scary, but she’s good at what she does.”
Lyle hummed. It was true, he was sure that Hellen was good and all if Sam was willing to have her around himself and the kids, but some hindbrain part of him couldn’t view her as anything but a threat.
“Sure, sure. And, I don’t really have anything super pressing right now, so if you want to go and come back, I don’t mind waiting.”
Lyle cast a glance at the clock. It was only 2 pm, so it wasn’t like it would cut into Sam’s dinner time or anything like that.
Sam’s eyes followed Lyle’s line of sight, and also seemed to come to a similar conclusion.
“Ok, I’ll go and do that- oh!” Sam cut himself off, turning to Lyle quickly.
“Is there anything I can get you in return? Really, I can’t thank you enough for doing this Lyle.”
Lyle’s face burned. Right, some part of him had gotten so caught up in everything happening that he’d almost entirely written off the idea of compensation in this mind. The idea of getting another kiss from Sam, or just impressing him with his ability to be the kind, normal neighbor Sam seemed to see him as, were both rattling in his head. His body also seemed to be reacting independent of his will, the whirring of machinery and faint clicks emanating deep from within himself.
It didn’t help that he could see Sam waiting patiently in his view, and only fried his brain even further.
Sam awkwardly laughed after a few moments, waving his hand in Lyle’s general direction.
“Don’t worry Lyle, if you need some time to think I don’t mind. Just don’t be shy about reminding me when you do need something, ok?”
Lyle nodded dumbly.
“Y-yeah. Of course Sam, uh. Thank you.”
“Of course, it’s the least I could do.” He stood up, putting his hand on his back to stretch a little. His undershirt rode up to reveal a little bit of his midriff, and it took everything in Lyle’s mind to not explode.
“I’ll get going, then. I shouldn’t be too long, like 15 minutes at max?”
Lyle struggled to his feet as well, intent on escorting his guest to the door.
“Ok, well- well I'll just be here when you get back.”
At the door, Sam suddenly stopped.
“Actually, Lyle, I hate to pile even more stuff on you, but there’s something I forgot to tell you.”
He stared up at Lyle nervously.
“The kid.. The baby’s cursed. It’s not like Joel’s sister, it’s pretty much like a normal baby, just.”
Sam hesitated. Lyle didn’t need him to elaborate. The baby almost certainly did not look like a completely human baby anymore, and that was okay. It would be hypocritical for Lyle to treat it differently for its appearance, anyway.
“I- I think I understand what you're getting at.”
Testing his luck, Lyle placed a reassuring hand on Sam’s shoulder. Nervous eyes met his own.
“Don’t worry Sam, i-if anything I’m probably the best person for this.” He shuffled his limbs nervously.
“I- I know I haven’t let you seen my full form but- I don’t think you need me to tell you that the Outside really did a- really did a number on me. I’m not exactly going to run away from a weird baby screaming.”
Lyle paused.
“Though, I do appreciate the uh- heads up. It- the baby is baby sized, right? I don’t know if I can make a diaper if you guys don’t have some already.”
That had actually slipped his mind completely. Surely they did have some, if Sam was asking?
“No- yeah, the baby is normal baby size, maybe a little tinier than normal but nothing crazy. And we do have diapers, found em in the-”
Sam paused, pupils shrinking a little as his shoulders raised. The moment passed as quickly as it came, and Sam’s eyes refocused.
“Sorry- I found diapers, yeah.”
Lyle couldn’t tell what had set Sam on edge, if it had to do with the baby, finding it, or even if his arm was still hurting. His stomach twisted. It never got easier to see the object of his affections plagued with just so much wretched nonsense.
Despite himself, he forced a smile. Better to move on quickly, and not acknowledge it, lest he make it worse for Sam.
“Perfect! W-well, I won’t keep you here any longer. Be careful out there, okay?”
A tiny smile wormed its way onto Sam’s face, framed with a deep exhaustion that couldn’t be wiped from his brow.
“I will. I’ll be back soon. Take care, Lyle.”
And with that, Sam turned the knob, and walked out the door.
Once Lyle had finished with the final lock, he was free to go back to his darkroom-turned-bedroom, settled into the cozy corner he’d made for himself, and scream into one of the many blankets and sheets until his upper throat got sore.