A/N: Felt like writing an angsty Baskerville!Leo and Elliot oneshot. So. Yeah. Again, not a pairing. AU. Enjoy, and review? :)

~Penelope

A dusk-time meteor shower had been one thing. He had known that Glen would rule him soon, knew in his heart of hearts that he would ultimately betray Oz and all the others, even after professing to be their friend at one time

Yes, he was their friend. Despite what he told Oz-kun. The look on Vessalius' face when he said that…

Leo shuddered, closing his eyes, shutting out the view of the dark ceiling of his room. The last of candles that he had lit a couple hours ago had burned down, plunging him into darkness.

Legends were silly things, but he couldn't help going out on a limb as a last resort. They say you can wish upon a shooting star, and if you tell no one your wish, it will come true.

He just hadn't expected it so soon. The sun had only just gone down on the meteor shower.

With his mind's eye, he travelled down the hallway of Pandora headquarters to the last door on the left. The door through which slept someone he thought he'd never see again.

His best friend.

Alive.

Breathing.

Dreaming, most likely. What could he be dreaming about?

The Abyss had spat him out. Cleansed of his wounds, as if nothing had happened. Sure, he'd been unconscious, but he'd woken up soon enough. And bombarded the Pandora agents and Baskervilles alike with questions in typical Elliot-fashion. No patience, no respect, just raw anger and confusion and… fear. Leo had never seen his former master so afraid. Especially upon seeing his once meek and agreeable servant draped in the blood red of a Baskerville's cloak, hair trimmed, eyes wide, face pale, probably a sickly shade of green.

Leo had never been a fainter. But that moment just about changed that. Might have, had Elliot not abrasively demanded to know what was happening. What had happened.

It was possible, if he wasn't as dead as they had thought, that the Abyss had swallowed him up in the closed coffin before they even buried him. Leo had never considered that until today. It had seemed impossible. But then again, Leo had not felt for Elliot's pulse himself. He had not checked for breath, or a heartbeat. All he had known was that Vincent claimed that one could not reject their Chain, and live. He had believed it, and been so overcome with grief that all reason had slipped his mind.

Vacated it, more accurately. And remained absent for a very long while. Too long.

Leo sighed; it never ceased to amaze him how quickly one moment could change one's life.

What was to happen now? Glen's influence would soon become too much for him to fight, and Elliot would be among those who would have to watch as the embittered ex-duke brought his vile plot to fruition, going back to the past, and changing everything.

Now that it had come to it, Leo knew he couldn't allow that to happen. It would break Elliot to be so betrayed. Yet, did Leo truly have a choice?

He heard a yell. Quite familiar, too. He used to hear that yell often in the deep recesses of the night. When Elliot was haunted by Humpty Dumpty and the memories it tried to suppress. Almost out of habit, Leo sat up and swiveled to place his bare feet on the cold floor. The yells continued, and he stood, moving for the door.

It took him but a minute to exit, cross the hallway to the end, and put his hand on the doorknob.

It was so familiar. Yet so foreign. Something he never thought he'd do again. He'd woken his former master from many nightmares; a small smirk crossed his face as he recalled every violent awakening. Usually, Leo was the one who ended up slugged or half strangled before Elliot was aware enough to stop.

It had never occurred to him that he would consider those as 'good' times.

He cracked the door open, moving to peek in. "…Elliot?"

There was something strange in the awfully familiar voice that he couldn't place. But there was more fear in it than was ever natural. "Leo… H-Help… me…"

Elliot never asked for help.

Then he screamed.

Leo flung the door open, darting inside, ready for what he thought was anything. But he wasn't. How could he be?

Elliot clung to one of the bedposts, halfway sprawled on the floor. His ears, still pierced by the black studs, had elongated to a fantastic pointed length; five inches, at least! Ebony claws protruded from his fingertips where nails should have been, and raked long trenches in the wood of the post. His pale face was twisted, marred with agony of some unseen sort, for there didn't seem to be anything in the room to torment him.

What sort of trickery was this?

Leo proceeded with caution, staring at what he thought was his former master, Elliot Nightray. But perhaps he had been wrong; perhaps, he had been too quick to trust. After all, could anything truly good come from the Abyss?

"Elliot?" he uttered in a ghostly whisper.

When Elliot opened what were supposed to be cobalt eyes, Leo almost staggered back from the weight of the pleading desperation written in a pair of unfamiliar glowing amaranthian irises. The young noble ground his jaw, baring clenched teeth and a pair of fangs that didn't belong. A suppressed groan built in his throat.

"HELP ME!" he cried, and trailed off into a blood-curdling scream of pain that made Leo want to huddle in a ball on the floor and cover his ears. Never before had he heard his friend make that sound.

And it was something he never wanted to hear again, but he couldn't escape it. Because Elliot wouldn't stop. The Nightray heir threw his head back at an unnatural angle, back arching, before his hands finally tore loose of the post. It almost looked as though an outside force flung him to the floor, but there was nothing there, and Leo sensed no Chain. Not yet, at least. Elliot had done it himself, and was now tossing and writhing like a man possessed, ethereal screams and cries ripping from his throat.

Leo knew the others were coming even before he heard their footsteps. Of course this commotion would raise the house. Who knew what they'd do when they arrived.

But he could only watch, transfixed, as Elliot endured what seemed to be unspeakable pain and terror. In wonder, he watched as the claws grew longer, spines jutted from his back, scales manifested over his skin – violet-black and glittering as gemstones from the Abyss.

The Abyss. It dawned on him, with horror.

Two new limbs, underdeveloped and disgusting, tore from Elliot's back with another scream, ripping holes through his nightshirt. With monstrous speed, they grew, lengthened, covered themselves with scales along with the rest of his body. Elliot's sandy hair disappeared under coal-black armor-like plates, and a pair of goat-like horns.

With jerky motions, Elliot suddenly rolled onto his hands and knees, and wretched horribly. But instead of sick, fire spewed from his lips, blue and hot and hungry. It lit the bed curtains, and began to consume the fabric all too eagerly. The temperature of the room spiked.

Leo watched, transfixed, as what was a familiar boy only moments ago morphed into a hideous beast. A dragon of nightmarish proportions; not ugly or massive like Jabberwock, but agile and lithe like a predatory panther, magnificent in its dreadfulness, with glowing amaranth eyes and broad wings and claws and spikes sharper than razors.

Then he sensed it. A Chain. Leo had wished for his friend back, and he got him, with a catch. There was always a catch. Elliot had returned, as a Chain. Like Alice.

What had the Abyss done? What had Leo done?

Gunshots. They plinked off the dragon – Elliot – harmlessly, raining sparks across his scaly hide and making him roar in agitation. The beast then shot the offending Pandora agents such an Elliot-esque look that Leo actually allowed a whimpered gasp to finally escape him.

This creature, this hideous, glorious monster was still Elliot underneath it all. And the Pandora agents were trying to kill him.

"STOP!" he yelled before he even thought about it, jumping up and throwing himself between them and Elliot, holding arms out and hands up. A few more stray shots were fired, one nicking Leo in the shoulder, before their puny minds registered his order and they ceased. He gritted his teeth against the pain of his new wound, already feeling the graze beginning to heal. Upon arriving and seeing their Glen newly wounded, the Baskervilles just about slaughtered the incompetent agents.

But Leo couldn't be bothered by them. As soon as they ceased fire, he whirled around to face the other problem. The impossible problem.

How could Elliot be a Chain, and exist outside of the Abyss without a contractor?

Perhaps… the same way Oz the B-Rabbit could?

He had so much he needed to know. But the scaled fist that closed around his throat stopped him. He choked for breath as he was hoisted into the air, and found himself staring into those unearthly eyes.

The dragon growled, clenching tighter, and Leo felt his head grow light. He tried to open his mouth, tried forcing out pained words, but his tongue refused to cooperate.

Surely, as a Chain, he could sense that Leo was the Glen. Couldn't he?

"El…liot…" he managed to choke out, seeing stars. He closed his eyes. "Pl…ease…"

The grip faltered. When he opened them again, he saw a little bit of humanity returned to the dragon's eyes. Then he dropped him, and Leo landed hard on his back, wheezing and coughing, gasping.

The Baskervilles attacked instantly, drawing their weapons and closing in on Elliot. Leo had to hurry to wave them off.

"Don't!" he rasped, sending pain arcing down his sore throat. He groaned, but shook his head for his followers to see. "Leave him."

They backed off as Leo lifted his gaze to stare at the Chain. He swallowed hard, then asked in a thick voice. "Why?"

The dragon stared at him with a gaze so intense, it made Leo shrink back. He flinched when he reached a clawed hand out toward him; he could practically feel the others tense. But Elliot – the dragon – simply pointed a talon at his chest, slightly to the left. The claw hovered there, before tracing a circular shape over Leo's shirt.

An incuse.

This dragon… Elliot… was contracted to him? But how?

Did he really have to know?

Elliot was here. Alive. Breathing. In some shape or form. Wasn't that enough?

They put out the fire.

The next morning, Elliot came to the breakfast table looking as normal and familiar as ever, with no knowledge of what had transpired the night previous. This time, Leo took him aside, and told him. He would not make the same mistake twice. Elliot seemed to take it in stride, and even told him that something hadn't felt right since he'd awakened.

Who was the master now? Leo asked this. Elliot, again in stride, didn't miss a beat in stating that Leo was. Leo was Glen Baskerville after all, and Elliot was no longer a Nightray, but a Chain, and a Chain contracted to the Glen, no less.

Master and servant again, they were. And though the rolls had somewhat reversed, it felt like things were back as they should be.

Now… About Glen…

A/N: Maybe this could be like a chain thing... You know, if someone likes it enough, they can write a continuation? Preferably no boyxboy pairing, though... Anywho. Reviews are still muchly appreciated.