I don't own any of the characters. Any themes relating to Repo! The Genetic Opera are (c) to Lionsgate/Darren Smith and Terrance Zdunich.

Grilo ahoy!

Guide: ***=no memory between the time a paragraph ends and the next starts. ~*~*~*~=change in character. Italicized, centered text that starts at the end of a paragraph=a shorter break in time, the characters do have memories of what isn't written. (Basically, a deleted scene.)

Rated M for future Sexual Content, Violence, Gore, and Language.

Tobias's Story

16 Years Ago

Two Best Friends, Nathan and Tobias…

"Tobias Hundbren. Collect on the Steinberg account. Her payment is two days past due. Return GeneCo's property."

Tobias and Nathan exchanged a concerned glance. It had been a few weeks since they'd been enlisted to become the Repo Men. Nathan had already gone through his first Repossession assignment; Tobias had been waiting on the sidelines, still performing the odd, advanced surgery when it suited him. He quietly shut off his holo-projector and rubbed at his wrist nervously, looking around Nathan's sitting room. He reached up to touch the dial on his neck, turning on the artificial voice box's speaker.

"This should be fun," the thick, recorded voice loop said. He lifted his brows and turned his closed mouth up in a smile, and Nathan chuckled briefly, one of around ten times in quite a while, shaking his head as he held out a short glass to him. Tobias nodded and accepted it, downing the hard liquor in one swallow. When he was done, he swiped at his mouth with the back of one hand, setting his mouth in a thin, grim line. "Wish me luck."

"Every Dog has his day," Nathan said ironically. Tobias let out a short burst of amused breath, the closest sound he could make to a laugh, which came out as a harsh, deep throated wheeze. Nathan waved at him, his haggard face looking darker the closer Tobias got to the door. "Just don't think about it. Just do it."

Tobias nodded, opened the door, and stepped out. He only made it a few more steps before he felt a vicious wave of nausea slap him upside the head, and he had to rush out the gate to retch on the street. Looking up, Tobias wiped his mouth again, looking for any passersby. For a mute, he was extremely particular about appearances, and partially digested pot roast and liquor wouldn't look good on a new Repo Man's reputation. No one was around, and he listened carefully, and hearing no one, he nervously wiped his palms on his pant legs before turning towards his car.

When he climbed in behind the wheel, Tobias Hundbren took a moment to check his reflection, and that moment took exactly thirty seconds, from his hair line to the eightieth hair on his chin. Satisfied that his hair was still coiffed to perfection, his eyes were still black, and his lips were still neutrally immobile, he turned the key in the ignition, and drove away from Nathan's house.

He was worried for Nathan. He'd known him since they were in grad-school, and never once in all of those twelve years had he ever seen his closest friend this…lost. There was simply no other way to put it. The older man was beside himself with grief, fresh and all consuming since the premature death of his late wife, Marni Wallace. Once a tall, proud figure, it seemed to Tobias that Nathan had aged faster than was humanly possible.

Driving away from Nathan's house took all of five minutes, thirteen seconds, and then he was in his own house, a small thing with black walls, except for the wall across from his bed in his bedroom. This was covered with photographs and pictures, hand drawn by Tobias, of himself and Nathan, of course, all twelve by ten feet of them. He smiled gently at the picture featuring Marni, between the two of them, they were all laughing, happy because they were together. Tobias couldn't have picked a better woman for Nathan, although her previous relationships and her preferences for bed partners did earn her a few raised brows from him. She had been kind, though, kinder than Nathan hope for in a wife fitting for a surGEN, and she'd been ecstatic about having his child.

But then, everything had gone wrong. Tobias found himself frowning for his best friend, his idol, feeling his pain as if it were his own. Marni had been kind not only to Nathan and her loved ones, but also to Tobias, often inviting him to dinner when Nathan would forget to.

He was Tobias's inspiration. The man was, if it was possible, his life blood. He'd been through so much in his time on earth, had pulled a child of his own blood from his dead wife's womb, and now was raising her own his own. Tobias smiled fondly, recalling Shilo's smile earlier that evening when he'd made faces at her. She was a strong little thing, her dark eyes full of light and infantile happiness.

Tobias would repossess the Steinberg organs for GeneCo, but he would also return them for Shilo. For Nathan Wallace.

Thirteen Years Later

A knock at his door pulled Tobias out of his meditative state. He rose from his favorite chair, walking to the front room and opening the door to find Nathan standing there, in full uniform. His brows shot up, and his hand went to the dial on his voice box automatically.

"Nathan," the voice loop said. "What a pleasure to see you. Is there something wrong? Do you need me to watch the house for you?"

"No, Tobias." Something was wrong. Tobias felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, and he reached up to tug at the collar his artificial voice box was attached to nervously before stepping back, gesturing for Nathan to walk in. His friend was carrying his equipment in a large, black bag with GeneCo emblazoned on the front. It wasn't the normal bag he carried. Something was definitely wrong. When Nathan had reached the living room, Tobias closed the door, catching up with him to put his hand on Nathan's shoulder.

"What's happened? What assignment has Mr. Largo given you? Is Mag threatening to leave the company?"

"No, Tobias. I'm sorry for frightening you. But it has to be done."

A shriek of interference, a wire being pulled out of a speaker that was plugged in.

Pain exploded across his throat, burrowing deep into his neck and slamming against the back of his skull.

Something hot burned at his skin, and there was a wail as he felt blood trickling down his chest, looked up at his hero in betrayal as he stumbled down onto his knees.

He tried to snarl at the glowing blue mask looming over him, lashing out, catching nothing but the leathery material of his uniform.

"It has to be this way, Tobias! You're back on your payment! It has to be this way!"

His head slammed into something solid, and he fell, limp and heavy as if he was nothing more than a rag doll. Even as Nathan Wallace robbed him of speech, he could feel the stab-and-pull, stab-and-pull, as his hero, his brother stitched up the gaping wound in his throat. He pumped him full of Zydrate, apologizing one last time before he was gone.

~*~*~*~

She woke up about an hour later to throw up. He didn't bother holding up her hair, since he'd shoved her wig into her bag when he'd found her, just made sure she was poised over Dixi's toilet as she emptied the contents of her stomach while he gave her his back. When she'd finished, he worried that there might have been something foul on that dick weed's knife the second he looked at her face. She was much paler than she'd been at that damn opera, a thin sheen of sweat covering her skin, and she was shivering, eyes wide and terrified, and most disturbing of all, unseeing.

"Dad?" she rasped. "Dad, what happened?"

"Kid, wake up," he said, squeezing her shoulder. She flinched at his touch, trying to scramble away from the toilet and pressing herself against the side of the stained bath tub, her eyes scraping blindly at everything around her. The Graverobber frowned as he reached out towards her, and she flinched again, as if his fingers were tipped with claws. "Shilo, wake up. Don't go crazy on me now."

"There was this…this man," she said, her voice shaking as her hand came up, fingers probing gently at her temples. He nodded, scowling at the wall before trying to reach out towards her again.

"He's dead now, Shilo," he said when she didn't try to pull back. He smiled encouragingly and gently pulled her to her feet, guiding her out of the bathroom and back to Dixi's couch. The street whore hadn't been in the apartment building when he'd come knocking, so he'd picked the lock and invited himself and his almost-rape victim in. The kid was still jumpy as he pulled his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders, trying to ignore the gash in the side of her neck, the one that would leave a nasty scar. "He can't get you again. No one will."

"I had a dream," Shilo said, her voice muffled by the cushion pressed under the right side of her face. He nodded as he counted his vials quietly, waiting for her to continue. "You were…you were dead, Dad."

"Wake up, kid," Graverobber snorted. "I'm not your daddy."

"There was a…an opera," she struggled to remember now, her brow wrinkling with worry. "And this…what did you call it? The monster with three heads?"

"A hydra?"

"Yeah, a hydra," she mumbled. "It had three heads. And this goat man, he told it what to do. He told it to kill a…a siren? And then she fell, onto these rocks, and then you…you were killed."

"Shilo!" he barked. Her eyes flew open, awareness forcing into the dark brown depths, and she gasped harshly, scrambling to sit up and curl into a ball against her corner of the couch. He quirked one eyebrow at her when she looked at him with confused, sad eyes. "Welcome back to the land of the living. How's the tequila treating you?"

"G-Graverobber, what happened to me in the alley?" she demanded. He grimaced and looked away from her, ignoring her question as he finished counting the still full vials. There were fourteen in all, which could last him for another two weeks at the most. She made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat, drawing his eyes towards her again. "Please, Graverobber. Tell me."

"Some drunk was trying to rape you," Graverobber said, bluntly. Her face turned green, and he was quickly on his feet, gesturing for her to follow him. "Come on, if you're going to be sick, do it in the bathroom."

She quickly shuffled after him, and he let her stumble into the bathroom on her own before letting the door close. He tied to ignore the sound of her retching, which seemed harder than the first time. It didn't seem fair, even to him, for someone to watch their parents die, be forced out on the streets into the company of a drug dealer, and then almost get raped within the span of less than a week. Now she was puking up the soles of her feet and was in a strange apartment, yet again, and she only had him to rely on.

I told you this was a bad idea.

After a few minutes, he heard the toilet flush, and when she came out, she was holding a wet scrap of cloth to her forehead. She didn't look to him for his aid as she made her way slowly back to the couch, and when he followed her in, she was sitting on the edge of the couch, head bowed as she wiped at her bald scalp. It wasn't until he was sitting next to her that he saw she was scraping the cloth against her skin, leaving behind angry read streaks. He snatched the cloth out of her hand, earning a baleful, flat glare from her.

"You're going to hurt yourself," he reasoned.

"Better to hurt than to freeze to death," she said cryptically. He tilted his head to one side as she pulled his coat tighter around herself. "I'm such an idiot."

"A little," he relented after a long silence. She looked up at him sharply, and he raised his hands defensively. "Look, anyone who falls asleep in an alley doesn't know how dangerous one can be. You're lucky no one came waltzing by you before I found you."

"If you hadn't been so busy shooting people up, it wouldn't have happened," she argued. "And are you trying to insinuate that I was asking to get assaulted?!"

"No!" he snapped. "That's not what I meant. And I'm sorry about what happened. But you have to be careful. I'll teach you where to hit a guy so he can't try any of that shit with you."

"Will that even help?" Shilo asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He smirked at her, elbowing her gently.

"If you know where to kick, you can bring any man to his knees," he sneered, and the smile melted off of his face when he saw her expression only become even more confused. "Wait…so you know what rape is, but you don't know how everything works?"

"W-well, duh, I told you," she grumbled, rubbing at her arms nervously. "My father--"

"He kept you in total darkness your whole life," he grumbled, standing up and fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt. "I'm not going to be the one to tell you about all of this. I'll be back. Lock yourself in."

"No!" she yelped, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him back onto the couch again. He snorted through his nose, watching her eyes dart around the room, looking at anything but him. "Please. Don't leave."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," he grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. He ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes for a few minutes before moving to the opposite end of the couch. "Get some sleep if you can. Dixi won't be back until tomorrow, and her front door is sealed shut.

"Promise you'll stay?" she asked, in the tone a child would use with a sulky parent. He snorted at how easily she won him over, rolling his eyes as he stretched out his legs, resting them on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Yeah, kid," he grumbled, shutting his eyes. "Cross my heart." He actually traced his fingers over the left side of his chest, earning a quiet, surprised snicker out of her.

***

Something solid crashed down over the side of his head, and he was awake with a string of loud, violent curses as he dove off of the warm, comfy surface he'd been sleeping on, pulling something that felt like a body with him when he landed on hardwood floor.

"Jesus, Graverobber, you scared the shit outta me!" Dixi said, obviously relieved. Graverobber glared up at her after pushing a fold of his jacket out of his face, and belatedly realized it wasn't him wearing the garment. Shilo was beginning to wake up, sprawled across his chest, her eyes squinted against Dixi's light fixtures as they flickered to life. With a grunt he pushed the young girl off of him, pulling himself up to sit on the edge of the couch, glaring at Dixi as he cradled his skull and watching as the street whore hid something behind her back. "Sorry. I couldn't recognize you."

"'Course you couldn't," he growled, leaning down to look in Shilo's face. "Get any sleep?"

"A little," Shilo relented, glowering at him, but for what, he didn't know. She turned her attention to Dixi, smiling wanly. "Hi, Dixi. Sorry about…you know. Breaking into your house."

"It was worth it to see Graverobber cuddling with you like that," one of Dixi's roommates, Sondra leered. She darted out of the room as Graverobber stood, cackling like a mad hatter. "Going soft, huh, tough guy?!"

"Don't listen to her," Dixi grumbled. "She looked at either one of them, narrowing her eyes knowingly. "How about some lunch. I'd say some breakfast, but it's a bit late for that. There's a diner across the street. Let's go."

Dixi was out the door before Graverobber had the chance to realize what she was doing. She was taking them to lunch. Dixi, with whom he'd had numerous, violent encounters with, the bad ones outweighing the rest like a rat being weighed against an elephant. He shrugged and gestured for Shilo to follow him, and they trudged out of the apartment, down the stairs and into the semi-dark of the mid afternoon sun. He felt a tug at his hair and turned sharply to have his jacket shoved into his face. When he had shrugged it back on, Shilo was ahead of him, catching up to Dixi. He hid a smirk, wondering at the poor, lonely little girl's behavior.

~*~*~*~

Shilo hadn't felt more secure in a long time. It would have been perfect were it not for Graverobber's constant behavior, which varied between flirtatious to thunderous as he switched from smirking at young girls to pouting about the food. Dixi was kind and compassionate in a gritty, hard edged sort of way, playing both the good hostess to them both, even if this wasn't her diner, and she didn't wrinkle her nose and order her to get more than what she'd asked from the waitress. Three chicken strips and French fries were enough for her, but she only fiddled with it, picking off the fried batter and nibbling at the fries while she half expected the Graverobber to shove the whole basket into her mouth.

Dixi was kind to her, and didn't ask her about her parents. She had enough tact to show that she was interested while wholly ignoring the topic of 'family,' and to Shilo's immense and pleased surprise, they spoke for almost three hours without interruption. Despite her career choice, Dixi was intelligent, and Shilo felt that Dixi was enjoying their conversation, too. She did seem a little disgusted by Shilo's habit of catching and preserving bugs, but delightfully so, as if her sense of beauty was a little skewed, too.

"So, Shy," Dixi said quietly when the Graverobber stood up and walked away. He'd mumbled something about 'relieving' himself, and Shilo could only try not to imagine what that meant as Dixi beckoned for her to lean over the hard table. "I won't get mad, but I have to know. Did he drag you to my apartment to have sex with you?"

"No," Shilo retorted immediately, jerking upright. Dixi shot her a meaningful glare and pressed a finger to her pursed lips, and Shilo bowed her head in embarrassment. "I mean, no….no he didn't. And do you have to put it so crudely? If we had, I wouldn't have let him just 'fuck' me."

"Hate to break it to you, kid, but that's all the man knows how to do," Dixi grumbled, almost bitterly. Shilo eyed her keenly, and when the older woman noticed her scrutiny, she cleared her throat. "So. Why were the two of you in my apartment?" She flagged the waitress and asked for a refill on their drinks, watching Shilo expectantly while she squirmed on the spot. "Someone try to jump you? Is that what happened?"

"N-not so much jump me as he…um…well…." Shilo paused for a long time, trying to scramble for a way to explain this with her pride still intact. That felt like the only thing she had left, so it was more than a little difficult. Finally, she reached a point where she was frustrated and angry about the whole thing, and jerked down her scarf, exposing her throat. Dixi gasped, one hand flying over her throat as if she felt the pain ripping across her own skin, her eyes wide with horror. "Some…guy tried to…force me to…you know."

"Jesus, Shy," she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. After a few moments, in which her wide eyes flicked from Shilo's face to her wound, she squeezed her eyes shut. "Pull your scarf back up. I'm sorry."

"S'not your fault," Shilo mumbled through her scarf when she'd pulled it up over the tip of her nose, and she saw a pair of blue eyes watching her as she did. The Graverobber stalked back to their table, gesturing for her to scoot back in before sprawling on the seat, his legs propped up across the backs of her thighs. Shooting him a baleful glare, she poked at the sole of one of his huge, black leather boots. "Comfy?"

"Yeah, thanks," he said, not looking at her the whole time. "Dixi."

"Yeah?"

"Do you know where there are some apartments up for rent?"

"She can stay with me," Dixi said firmly. "I'll keep up with her."

"No," the Graverobber said firmly, and then shot her a mocking grin. "The kid was raised by a lying sunnuvahbitch. I don't want her to be taught the ways of life by a bunch of fucking street whores."

"Better she learn from us than from that dick that attacked her," Dixi hissed. That wiped the smile off his face. Shilo tried to shrink down into the seat, but the heavy boots on her legs made it only so possible. "Where the hell were you? Or do I even need to ask?"

"My transactions are my business, Dixi," the Graverobber said coldly. He stretched one arm across the back of the seat, and the two had a heated stare down while Shilo could only sit there and be force choked on the tension. After a while, Dixi relented, glaring away with a sharp jerk of her head. "Now. Any apartments on the market? That isn't yours?"

"There's um…there's an empty house, a few blocks from that upstate graveyard, you know, the one with the catacombs that GeneCo flies bodies in through the ceiling?" The Graverobber nodded, his eyes narrowed as if trying to remember. Shilo saw a young man scramble past him, his face going pale as he went, when he saw the expression, and wondered how many people in the diner were intimidated by his presence. It was then that she realized that the diner had completely cleared out, and she snickered a little. Dixi glanced at her, and looked around the diner with one sweeping of her eyes, and grinned in amusement at The Graverobber. "Your reputation precedes you. You must have cut that dick up good."

"You better believe it," he snarled, bearing his teeth in a feral grin. Shilo felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and she glanced down at a white, squishy packet on the table. When she'd poked at it a few times, he snatched it away, and ripped the squiggly top off with his teeth before handing it back to her. "It's ketchup. Drink it."

"I'm not going to drink ketchup," Shilo replied, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Ew."

"Don't 'ew' it until you've tried it, young lady," he said, shaking a finger at her. She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to imitate his scowl, and he laughed at her. "Ooh, scary."

"Try the house," Dixi said, grinning and shaking her head as she pulled a pen out from her thick, blond-streaked hair. She scribbled something down on a napkin and handed it to the Graverobber, whose eyebrows shot up as he read what she'd written. He glanced at Dixi, doubt plainly written on his face, and she shrugged. "It's worth a look, at least. I was considering it for a while when it opened up."

"I'll consider it," he said neutrally. Then he swatted at Shilo with the back of his fingers gently, pulling his legs off her almost numb ones. "Come on, kid. We're house hunting today." He saluted to Dixi, and she stuck her tongue out at him in reply. "Pleasure doing business with you, Dixi. We'll have to do this again sometime."

"Fuck you, Graverobber," Dixi spat as he chuckled, inching out of the booth. She glowered after him until they both heart the bell at the front door go off, and sighed bitterly, glancing at Shilo for a moment. The angry expression melted off, and she smiled gently at her, reaching out to touch the back of Shilo's hand. "Take care of yourself, Shy Wallace. I'm sure you'll love the house."

"He's not going to abandon me, is he?" she asked fearfully, glancing over one shoulder to see him waiting with the door propped open with one shoulder. When she looked back at Dixi, the older woman shrugged.

"Your guess is as good as mine," she said. "He doesn't let anyone that close. But he's a man of his word, for the most part. If he said he'd keep an eye out for you, that's what he's going to do, unless he gets a better offer."

"Oh, that's comforting," Shilo grumbled with a wry grin. Dixi shrugged again, and wrote something on another napkin before folding it, handing it to Shilo.

"Don't open it yet," she said secretively. "Not until tonight. It's a surprise." Her eyes suddenly seemed too bright, and Shilo frowned in concern as she tucked the napkin into her bag, realizing that Dixi was close to tears. "Go on, Shy. Go raise some hell for me, okay?"

It wasn't until she reached the front door that she looked back, watching as the waitress walked away from her booth. Dixi still sat there, her head turned towards the window next to the booth, watching the world pass by. Shilo swallowed at the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat, wanting to rush back and smooth the worry off of Dixi's face. For some reason, this didn't seem like any old goodbye…so she tried to absorb as much detail as she could, the intense green of her eyes, the red-and-blond hair, the teal colored seats and the coffee cup between Dixi's hands. She looked like the last woman on earth, the only one, knowing she was doomed to a long suffered existence.

Shilo didn't realize she'd been walking with him until they stopped on a sidewalk. After a few seconds she realized her legs were unbearably tired, her skin was cold again, and she was tucked under one of the Graverobber's arms, shivering. He jostled her a little, and she looked up to see him watching her.

"Look," he said, pointing in front of them. Shilo gasped sharply when she saw the familiar iron fence, the darkened bricks, windows with those feminine grace curtains, curtains her mother had picked out seventeen years ago.

"Welcome home, kid."

Author's Notes: Dun-dun-DUUUHHHHHNN! :O The plot….she thickens. Hur. I has ideas! But I need something else to think of, other than bringing in some characters from the movies to have more active involvement.