Hands

Heinz has beautiful hands. Perry knows they're not his real hands, of course. He couldn't possibly forget that after Heinz had first mentioned it, off-handedly as usual, that time in the desert. Perry stayed quiet back then but it definitely was a shock of a kind—to discover that, on the top of all his backstories, Heinz had to deal with something this huge and traumatic when he was just a child. All by himself, through pain and error, no doubt. Perry stayed quiet, but he certainly became more attentive to his nemesis' words since then, seeing how he could throw something this important just in between the lines. Somehow, unlike all the other backstories that Perry has heard several times each, Heinz didn't seem too eager to say more about his lost arms aside from, well, the fact that it happened. Perry asked anyway when the moment seemed right, on an odd day when he stepped out of his hover car on DEI balcony for their usual thwarting and found no traps ready for him, which as a rule meant that Heinz's personal life got in the way of his work. He stepped into the quiet apartment, passed a weirdly-shaped -Inator, and finally found Heinz in one of his working rooms, hunched over a table, fixing something and mumbling to himself in German. Perry chirred to announce his presence and Heinz all but jumped, and when he turned around, Perry could see that he only had his left arm on, the right sleeve empty and dangling, his right arm lying separately on the table, sparking. It took Perry his years of training not to flinch then and not to show just how taken aback he was, how wrong and unnatural it felt when he took the whole picture in. Then Heinz smiled sheepishly and started bumbling, a litany of apologies and excuses, words hurrying one another while his left hand raked through his hair uncomfortably. This doesn't usually happen, Perry the Platypus, honest to god, he always makes sure everything functions properly for the day, and he didn't have time to reschedule or warn Francis not to waste your time, he knows it must look unpleasant, and he's so, so sorry you had to see that, Perry the Platypus— The man looked so genuinely guilty that Perry quickly came to his senses. What was Heinz apologizing for? For being an amputee? For being unlucky enough to come from an abusive family that was so careless that he lost his limbs as a little kid? He was okay with Heinz, prosthetic detachable arms or not. It just took a little getting used to. Perry walked up to him and chirred, touching his knee with his paw. "P-Perry the Platypus? What— What are you saying? You don't have to be here, you know. I'm sorry you wasted your time coming here but you could as well take today off. It's not like I'll be able to play out my scheme with this— uhm—" "It's okay. I don't mind the arms at all," Perry signed. "Please don't apologize." After a second, when the message sank in, Heinz sagged in relief, some nervous energy leaving his body. That was definitely progress. Heinz smiled then, still a little unsure but grateful and much more genuine this time. Well, at least Perry did something right. He ended up helping, of course. Sitting on the table among tools and spare parts, passing instruments and connecting the tiny wires, doing what Heinz couldn't with only one hand. Actually, he could, probably, but it wasn't easy. And now Perry was here, so Heinz didn't have to struggle. It felt nice, to be able to help. By the end of the day, when the malfunctioning in the right arm was fixed and Perry helped reattach it, he thought that he had never seen Heinz this flustered. "This... This is much simpler with someone's help, I'll tell you that, Perry the Platypus. Well, you could say, nicer, too", he mumbled as he adjusted his arm in his shoulder faucet, his cheeks just a shade pinker than usual. "Charlene hated to do it, said it weirded her out." He smiled weakly. "Thank you, you know, this— this means a lot, really." Perry smiled too and chirred encouragingly, and after that Heinz suggested he could move taking over the Tri-State area to tomorrow, and ordered take-away. It was late, but Perry stayed anyway. His boys were used to his absence by now, so it was easy to slip onto the couch in front of the TV, close to Heinz, and to watch his hands a bit closer as they ate and talked. He knew now how much thought and pain and effort it took Heinz to be able to gesture this comfortably and animatedly. The night was peaceful and felt intimate, somehow, and Heinz became a little more open about the topic afterwards. A little less on guard all the time. Which was a good thing, because now he didn't have to hide it and ignore the pain when something with his arms needed fixing in Perry's presence. Perry learned that Heinz never asked Norm for help with his arms. To Perry’s silent question why he just huffed, "Norm's got his own metallic body to take care of", and left it at that. Perry also learned that Heinz designed his titanium hands to be an exact replica of how his real hands used to look like, would look like, with age and natural defects and all. With "bitable nails", as Heinz put it, and the artificial skin that can bruise and even bleed a little; Perry was confused about that one at first, but he guessed it was maybe for the same reason why he didn't modify his arms above what ordinary human arms can do or didn't call them Arm-Inators. It was probably Heinz's way to cope with the whole thing, to feel more normal, to avoid unnecessary attention. With time, the bitable nails, and the bleeding, and the sparking, and the detachment-attachment process all became so familiar to Perry that he just stopped questioning Heinz's choices. Instead, he offered help when he could. And Heinz might be a genius, but it took him a long time to understand what Perry meant, exactly, when he clearly signed "You can call me when your hands need fixing. I’d like to help." Way, way longer than it should have. It’s probably weird—for a platypus to get this emotionally involved in his nemesis’ artificial hands, but the more time passes, the more Perry thinks that they’re beautiful; might be his favorite of Heinz’s inventions. Brilliant, complicated—simply the best there are, just like the man himself. Without them, Heinz wouldn't be able to create stuff. Gesture while scheming, and draw blueprints, and swing his cone in the musical numbers. Install intricate wiring and self-destruct button after self-destruct button in every single one of his -Inators. Pick up almond brittle crumbs the way he does every time after finishing it. Bake, decorate, draw, run his fingers through Perry's fur—you name it, so much in Heinz's life is created by hand. Most importantly, they let him feel it when Vanessa pats his hand, raising from the table and thanking him for the dinner, or when Perry takes his hand in his paw to let him know he's here when life's tough. Perry isn't sure Vanessa even knows about his arms, to be honest. It seems like she isn't aware of most of his backstories—but maybe it's a good thing. She's just a child, after all, even if she doesn't look like it. Heinz's hands are shaky just like real hands would be when he's telling Perry about his childhood after a nightmare, without the light-hearted bravado he puts on for his monologues during the day. This is different—raw and anxious and quiet, and when Perry puts his paw on the titanium hand, it's soft and warm just like his real skin would be. And his skin is cold and his fingers are twitching nervously when Perry takes his hand before the Drusselschtein driving test to calm the man down a bit. It works, the tremors stop, and Heinz squeezes Perry's paw in return. He always slouches under the weight of titanium but he says it's worth it, says his bad posture is a small price to pay for being fully functional. He never mentions how painful it must be for his shoulders and back and how unfair it must feel but Perry sees it anyways, sees how tough Heinz has it sometimes, and so he chirrs and signs and smiles to get his message across. "Thank you, Perry the Platypus," Heinz says, "You always know what to say to make me feel better." His hand is on Perry's shoulder, and it might not be real per se, but it feels very much real to Perry, and when Heinz smiles, it seems like it's enough for him, too.