Title: Butterfly in a Bell Jar
Chapter: 1 (Capture)
Author: SomethingIDontKnow
Rating: T (For gay romance, gore, and violence)
Disclaimer: I do not own Repo! The Genetic Opera. Gods know I wish I did.
Author's Note: A lot of my stories begin with someone who's lost it all, and this one will be one of the Legion. Maybe kinda AU. Cause the events of the movie wont happen here.
Summary: Young Graverobber can't pay off the lungs he needed to survive the car accident that took his parents. Now, after two years on the street selling Zydrate and running from the Repo Man, his luck has run out. But when his death offers salvation, what will the broken young man do to survive?
It was too damn dark. That wasn't too unusual, if Graverobber stopped to think about it. But there would be little thinking and no stopping right now. Only motion. Forward motion.
Running, to be exact.
Why a fourteen year old boy would be running though such decrepit, dark alleys would be a mystery to most. But the boy on the run would understand.
He couldn't pay. He knew that when he'd accepted the transplant. But he had been in so much pain, on so many drugs, and so frightened, it was the only choice he could have made. The car accident had taken his parents and nearly taken him. Now his lungs were not his.
No, those were Gene Co.'s.
And now he would pay for his survival with his death. For two years he'd managed to avoid the Repo Man. Two years of graveyards and tombs and collecting Zydrate to keep himself alive. And just barely. Now, his luck had run out, it was the end. Literally.
He had just turned left into a short ally ending in a brick wall.
Slapping a bare palm against the cold stone, the boy now known as Graverobber sobbed quietly, sliding to his knees. His forehead to his knee, he covered the back of his neck with his hands and prayed to a god he didn't really remember that he wouldn't be found.
That god must have been out at the moment.
A powerful grip took his forearm, dragging him up and turning him to face his death. Blinking back heavy tears, Graverobber looked up into the Repo Man's blue goggles. The eyes that looked back at him were cold, and glinting, and too damn happy to have him suspended inches from the ground.
The Repo Man dropped him, letting the boy sprawl on the filthy ally floor. He set his bag down and opened it, drawing out a scalpel. Giving up hope, Graverobber only lay there, watching him draw the glinting silver blade to his throat. The Repo Man paused, and there was only the sound of Graverobber's breathing and sirens in the distance.
"Why aren't you afraid?"
To match his appearance, the Repo Man had a voice that was deep and gravely. "Just kill me and get it over with." Graverobber sighed, looking away, "do me the favor." "What is this?" The Repo Man asked, his hard voice softening on the edge, "Are you so hopeless, young man?" Graverobber looked up into his eyes, now curious, not so cold. "yes." he said quietly, "now please do it." He tipped back his chin, baring his throat.
"I would like to, little one." Repo murmured, stroking the edge of the blade back against the soft skin of Graverobber's throat, "but now I see you won't scream. Won't give me the satisfaction hearing you sputter for your dying breath." He was wistful now, mourning the loss of such pleasure. Graverobber murmured, "No." "Then what am I to do?" the flat of the blade caressed the pulse at the base of his throat, "those lungs are to be returned, unless you manage to pay. And I don't see that happening. But to kill you without satisfaction? That would be such a waste." "I could barely stay alive selling Zydrate." Graverobber breathed, "I cannot afford the surgery. I have no options. No meaning anymore. Please, just end me."
"And if I gave you back your meaning?"
Grave robber looked up at him, eyes wide, black painted lips parted in surprise. This new voice was soft, gentle. Those eyes were suddenly concerned, the brush of the scalpel so tender. "Wh-"
"Hush." The scalpel lay against his cheek now, the edge scraping his skin so gently. "Yes, I'll help you, little one. Come back with me. Be my assistant. You're so soft. Just a boy. And The Repo Man needs a helper."
The Repo Man stood, leaving the ragged urchin lying on the ally floor. "will you be my assistant, if I get Gene Co. off your back?" he asked. His expression was open and honest as he offered a hand.
The boy known as Graverobber looked up at the hand, transfixed, confused. But he reached up, with trembling hands and took the assistance. To be his assistant. Looking up into kind eyes, he let this stranger put a comforting arm around his shoulders.
Some how, in that embrace, he knew he was safe. Graverobber was safe. He was free from the streets. From Gene Co. He was now in the service of The Repo Man.