Author's Note—It has come to my attention that a 'Secret Book of Repo Fan-Fiction' has been published and handed out to the folks at the latest Comic-Con. For that reason, let me reiterate that I'm not making a single penny off of writing this stuff. Let me also say that I know a plot like the one in this fic will probably NEVER happen when the sequel is made, or for that matter, the prequel. Romance doesn't end happily in the Repoverse, at least going by the Rotti-Marni-Nathan triangle alone. That much I understand, and I won't pretend it's otherwise not just for my own sanity, but for the happiness of people that come by this account. To that end…this is merely a thought as to how things could have gone in the future, not how they will go. That's entirely up to the original creators, of course. In the meantime…I hope no one out there objects to me living on Fantasy Island for a while. Thank you and goodnight.
Chapter Twenty-One: Deep Impact
He can't be serious about this, Shilo thought, her hands shaking from the shock of Graverobber's announcement. I can't believe he wants to go to this thing. How can he even think about it? It's way, way too dangerous!
She'd been dreading a day like today ever since he'd finally let it slip that he'd sent a baby gift to Amber Sweet's mansion, intending that it get passed onto their son or daughter as soon as he or she was born. She'd felt sick to her stomach when she found out just how he'd gotten that gift carried straight to the mansion's front door. The Trade Master had disguised himself as an aging postal worker, talked his way into getting past the main gate, and once there, narrowly convinced one of Amber's older brothers, Pavi Largo himself, to make sure it got to Amber.
The request had not come without a cost of Pavi's own, of course, for the black market trader had later returned to his shop with an empty wallet, no more antique wristwatch on one arm, and a strange look on his wrinkled face. Although he later assured the whole group that it was a fair trade and that he was more than happy to help out his friends, doubts had already begun surfacing in Shilo's mind about the possible consequences.
For starters, any number of people could have witnessed the surprise visit and mentioned it to their friends, who could have in turn mentioned it to their friends and, as the paths of the grapevine often went, at least one of those friends could have told a gossip reporter all about it. In the end, what could have been someone's little secret could get reported to the entire island, thus ruining the chance of keeping other, much older secrets from the general population. And as far as she was concerned, those secrets had nothing to do with revealing some kid's paternity to the rest of the island. There were worse discoveries that could be made, like just where the so-called 'real' heir to GeneCo had disappeared to. And if anyone, be they scrounging by on the street or living it up in the Largo mansion, saw that one thing for themselves, how long would it be before GeneCops surrounded the ship, demanding that she be handed over into their custody?
More importantly, however, there were her three custodians to worry about. She had narrowly convinced the first two to take her in a few months ago at that bar downtown, and if she had not mentioned the name of the third, chances were they might have turned her away in the end. That little connection had guaranteed her a somewhat quiet life afterward, one blissfully devoid of medicine, madmen, and murder. She'd been given the freedom to choose her own wardrobe, enjoy desserts and snacks whenever she liked, and try her hand at gathering Zydrate to earn herself some money. All three had gone through a lot to keep her safe thus far—risking a confrontation with Amber Sweet, narrowly sidestepping the arrival of Luigi Largo, keeping her hidden on board the Jolly Roger, and last but not least, being careful never to let her name slip or mention her moving in with them while traveling the streets at night. Because of this, she had started having nightmares about watching either Graverobber or his two friends die painfully, and only a few hours ago, envisioning that they had all been murdered together. She had hoped to forget that horrible image this evening, but Grim leaving the ship and returning with a letter from Amber herself had ended all hope of that happening. And once he had finished reading that letter and telling the rest of them his plans for the New Year, the nightmares seemed well on their way to coming true.
"Looks like I might not be working New Year's Eve after all," he said out loud, almost looking smug as he tucked what might have been an invitation into the left pocket of his jacket. "I might just have different plans this year."
"Plans?" Shilo had blurted out a short time ago, feeling something inside her flinch. "What plans?"
"Reconnecting, reuniting, all that jazz. Apparently my little surprise went off better than I expected. Now I'll get to have some time alone with the Boss Lady over at the Charity Ball."
She counted exactly thirty seconds before the panic set in, her breath laboring and her hands shaking as though she were about to have another imaginary blood pressure attack. How could he suddenly look so damn pleased with himself? Didn't he have any idea just who else might be attending a party like that? How come no one in the Largo family could be content with what they had? Why did they always have to take something of hers away first…?
"The 'Charity Ball'."
"Yeah, kid, that's the idea."
"And what kind of charity has GeneCo given out lately?" Shilo snapped, her tone suddenly growing cold. "Is it the kind where they pretend to want to help you, only to stab you in the back when they've convinced you to trust them?"
Both of Graverobber's friends stopped their respective dish washing and radio channel surfing to give her a set of curious looks. They could stare at her all they wanted as far as she cared. She had more important things to deal with than their opinions right now.
"Is it the kind of charity where they promise a cure, only to leave you as twice as bad off as you were before? Are they planning to act as though they're saving lives, and then when a handful of people can't pay, they'll go ahead and end those lives instead? Is that the kind of charity you're talking about?"
She didn't push him into telling her how wrong he thought she was, or get him to yell at her and order her to be quiet. That's how things would have been in the safety of her own home, no matter how far away it seemed to be now. Here, he only scowled in silence with one eyebrow raised, waiting for her to continue her tirade. Maybe she would, if only to get him to get his act together and stop running back to that spoiled, indulged mansion brat who lived in luxury while he had to scavenge for his supper.
"Okay, so you're excited about going to see your girlfriend or your baby mother or whatever the hell she's supposed to be. Good for you! What about the rest of us, Grim? What if something goes wrong up there, and we don't hear about it until it's too late? How do you think I—how we're going to feel when we find out you've been arrested…or worse? What's all this about a fair trade? I don't…I can't…"
She could feel a sense of dizziness threatening to drag her down, a rapid change of heartbeat pounding in her ears, and then she was watching Graverobber as though trying to see him through a thick haze. He was holding her up with one arm and pulling her towards the couch with the other, growling at Norm to move the hell over and give her some space. Instinctively, her left hand moved towards her right as though to turn off some electronic device, but no device of that kind existed on her wrist. Instead, her right hand twitched and moved to pick something up, though it found nothing but empty air.
Shilo…
A voice spoke to her through that strange haze, forcing her to sit upright and pay attention.
Shilo, take your medicine…
"W…What…?"
"I said come on, Wallace, snap out of it. We're here. Damnit, Frye! Didn't I say get her some water already?"
"My pills. I can't find them…I can't find my pills…"
"What pills?"
"You too, Preston! Just let her drink, for Death's sake!"
"Okay, okay, I got it! Here, happy now?"
Someone pushed a glass of cool liquid into her hand, and soon she found herself calming down somewhat with the help of the water she'd been given. It might not be enough to get Grim to change his mind, but it definitely was enough to make him stay a little while longer and not leave her on the spot.
"What was that she said about pills?"
"Nothing, Frye. She thinks she needs them, but she really doesn't."
"Why did she mutter about them, though? What's the big deal about medicine all of a sudden?"
"Also nothing," Graverobber insisted, bravely ignoring the curious looks of the other two men. "I'd talk about it myself, but I don't want to upset the kid any further."
"Okay, so why don't we ask her, then?" Norm pressed. "She brought them up already, didn't she? What's this about her pills that we can't—"
"—I said, I don't want to talk about it. It's not my business, so don't ask me. And if she wants to talk about it in detail, she'll do it on her own time, all right?"
"All right, all right," Steve agreed, raising his hands in mock surrender. "The girl talks when she wants to talk. We get it."
"Good." Grim jabbed a finger in the direction of the door to the lower deck; then helped Shilo up as he started walking towards it. "We'll be downstairs if you need us before work tonight. Otherwise, we're gonna need a moment alone to talk."
"Gotcha. See you in a few."
Shilo didn't notice the sound of the door closing behind them, the long walk down the steps, or the other grave robbers' voices fading into the background. Those were all irrelevant when they compared with where she was headed, and also exactly with who. She could think and worry freely about Graverobber himself now, for with him walking along beside her, it was next to impossible to consider thinking about anyone else. How different it had become since a few minutes ago, for back then, she was almost sure he would be leaving her forever. Now, she could hardly wait to ask him if he planned on returning from the party, let alone coming back to the ship. And if so, well…they could go back to work, play, and life in general once this whole mess of a New Year's celebration had ended, couldn't they? She'd come too far to let one more Largo—any Largo—ruin it for her all over again. This time, if they tried messing with her, she'd find a way to fight back and try messing things up for them instead. This time, things would be different.
"All right."
Graverobber had brought her to the TV room again, and like the last time she'd gone down there, she moved hesitantly over to the couch just in case he was about to ask her to watch a program in order to calm down. However, unlike last time, he motioned for her to stay put.
"Not so fast, kid. There's something we better talk about first."
Here it comes, Shilo thought, feeling herself tense up in anticipation of his rejection. Does he know? He has to know. He wouldn't miss a thing, not ever…
"Yeah…?"
"I saw ya get mad before, Wallace, but that's the first time you almost passed out on me. What's the deal? Is having no fake medicine bothering you again?"
He doesn't know. He never noticed a thing. Wonderful…
She felt a blush creep slowly across her face, and turned her gaze to the ground so that he could go on not noticing the way she kept looking at him.
"Oh. I mean, no. No, I feel just fine tonight. I've been fine since September."
"Yeah? Then how come we all heard you whimpering about pills just a moment ago? Why would you look for 'em if you didn't need them any more?"
"I don't know. Really. I guess it was just some old reflex kicking in."
"Reflex?"
"I had to swallow those things ever since I was old enough to learn my ABC's. Every time I got nervous or scared, or when the usual doses stopped working, I had to swallow them. It's obvious I'd fall back into old behavior when I got upset, then, isn't it?"
She blushed even worse when she looked back into those dark blue eyes again, yet all he did was nod silently, no emotion registering on his face. Just what was going on in that mind of his?
"Maybe. Yeah, it might be…but why get upset at all? It's just some party, Wallace. It's not like I'm marching off to war or anything, now, is it?"
"That 'party' is going to have GeneCops and Repo Men swarming all over it. What a coincidence."
"How do you know?"
"I sneak in news reports when Frye's not busy with the T.V. I have my ways."
Now it was his turn to look away and act like the embarrassed one, or at least, he appeared that way. All the better to convince him to reconsider, then.
"You have your ways. I see."
"Yes. And when they see you, because they will, they'll remember all the laws you're breaking and come after you on the spot. Your face must be on a hundred wanted posters by now, right?"
"A thousand."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm featured on a thousand posters, not a hundred. The folks down at the Trade Center counted them all for me."
"A hundred, a thousand, what's the difference? They'll still know you're there, won't they? And when they do, what's stopping them from doing that whole shoot-on-site thing?"
What she expected was an apology, a promise to not attend the party at all, and maybe even a combination of the two. That would have made her feel better in an instant, and she would have been able to put all fears of her new family being destroyed to rest.
What she got was his usual smirk and a jab of his thumb towards one corner of the room, where a box lay half-opened on the table. Even with the threat of Repo Men and GeneCops hanging over his head, he just couldn't take the worst-case scenario of his situation seriously.
"Okay…what's in the box, or am I not supposed to know?"
"That's where I'm keeping my disguise for New Year's Eve, Wallace."
"Your disguise?"
"Yeah. They don't call 'em masquerade balls for nothing. With all the guests hiding their faces, nobody's gonna know I'm there."
"And they've never heard your voice before, right? What about being able to tell the difference between your disguise and everybody else's?"
"That's a coffin full of 'Not on your life' and a tombstone made of 'No chance'."
Not to mention he also couldn't help acting smug about the whole thing. Way to make a girl feel better.
"I figure as long as I don't look too different from all the other guests, I'll blend right in. Good thing Amber sent me that mask ahead of time. All I'll have to do is match something up to its colors, and I'll be set."
"Did she send you an invitation as well?"
"It came with the mask. I'm as good as in there already, give or take a few days."
"And the GeneCops…?"
"If I see them coming or hear them planning my demise, I'll get the hell outta there."
"You're sure?"
"As sure as shovels love the soil."
Smug as he was, he also looked ready to take the risk and rub elbows with GeneCo's elite. Whether or not they captured him in the end hadn't even registered with him yet. Instead, the idea of running off to see Amber Sweet again seemed to take top priority, and all of the problems she'd listed seemed easily taken care of. What was it about this obnoxious, selfish, drug-obsessed idiot that he found so appealing?
"All right."
The nightmare of Graverobber's painful death sprang back into her mind, yet Shilo found herself nodding in agreement just the same. There would be only one thing for her to wish for while he was away, and that was the idea of him coming back again unharmed.
"Just promise me that you won't pick any fights while you're there, okay?"
"'Cross my heart, and hope to be repossessed."
"Thanks for the harmless mental picture, Grim."
"Hey, it seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Okay, okay. Let's just get back upstairs, all right? The others are waiting for us."
They returned together to the T.V. room, where both Norm and Steve had gathered around the screen to watch the latest news broadcast. From what the headline bar and the news ticker reported, some breaking story had just hit the airwaves.
"What's the talk of the island tonight?" asked Shilo, leaning over the couch for a better look.
"It's time to pick the orphans again," Norm answered. "Three names tonight, just like all those years ago and since then. Only difference is, it's the boss lady's turn."
"Surprise, surprise…"
Shilo could see that Amber Sweet had chosen a white dress, a dark blue coat, and a blond wig for the occasion; but she barely paid attention to the first few minutes in which Laura Sveinn from the South and Saffron Romey from the North were chosen from GeneCo's little black box. All she could think about was how Graverobber was so eager to leave her own company and dash off to her, and barely cared about his own safety or if and how much any harm that came to him might affect her already-fragile emotional state. It wasn't until the third name was drawn that she snapped back to attention, for all three of the grave robbers had turned to look both at her and amongst themselves in silent alarm.
"Our third orphan to be selected," Amber read in a low tone, almost hiding her own surprise at having found that particular name, "Is Shilo Wallace."