I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

Mentions of blood and child abuse.

Summary: In his first few years with the Varia, Fran retains some of the habits he developed from his miserable childhood. Whenever Xanxus freaks out on him, he retreats to his closet and waits out the rage, as he had done with his biological mother. But Xanxus is not her, and no matter how many times Fran wallows in his turmoil, he will be there to set him straight.

Old Habits Die Hard

The second Fran woke up, he should have known it wasn't going to be a good day.

The first and most obvious sign was the steady rainfall pattering against the roof and slashing against the windows. But Fran tried to tune it out, keeping his emotions guarded from the others so they wouldn't feel the niggling anxiety. He roamed the lower floors of the mansion, in search of the memory stick that contained his school project, shoulders hunched as he heard the raindrops echo throughout the spacious home.

That was the second sign, though he didn't realize it then. His missing memory stick was nothing more than an annoyance. A detail he had forgotten until the last possible minute. He usually wouldn't have cared about missing one assignment, but this one was mandatory. If he didn't hand it in his grade would take a nosedive, with nothing to be done to recover it, and if he got a failing grade on his report card that's when Xanxus would take notice.

And not in a good way.

"Fran!"

Fran paused his search and turned his head in the direction of Levi's voice. "What?"

"Get your ass moving!"

"I'm not ready yet!"

"If you're not ready in five more minutes I'm leaving without you," snapped Levi.

Fran scowled as the heavy slam of the front door reverberated down the corridor. "Jerk."

He picked up the pace, prowling through the library and rifling through his computer desk one last time. When he came up empty, he gave a frustrated sigh and resigned himself to Xanxus' ire in a month's time.

He grabbed his backpack and ran outside. He ducked his head as the cold water pelted him, gritting his teeth against the tightness in his chest. He flung open the back door of Levi's vehicle and climbed across the leather seats.

"About time," growled Levi, wasting no time in changing gears and speeding down the driveway.

"Hey, I'm actually early. I had a minute to spare," countered Fran.

"What took you so damn long?"

"I was looking for something," said Fran with a shrug. "Why are you in such a rush?"

"I've got a meeting," said Levi shortly. "And unlike you I have respect for being punctual."

Fran rolled his eyes. "Right. I'm sure it has nothing to do with Xanxus promising to rip out your teeth one by one and then forcing you to eat them if you're a second late."

Levi bristled, shooting the eleven-year-old a glower in the review mirror. "Shut up or you can effing walk the rest of the way."

The boy immediately went quiet and Levi was too preoccupied with the future events of his day to process that he had used the one threat that played on Fran's deepest fears. Fran slouched against his seat, the knot in his chest getting worse, and he took a hard breath to try and loosen it.

He's not going to kick you out of the car. They always say that but they never do it.

He repeated it like a mantra and it soothed him somewhat. He avoided looking out the window and stared blankly around the interior of the car. His eyes zeroed in on a memory stick sitting in the cup holder—his memory stick.

His brow furrowed and he blinked, trying and failing to remember the circumstances that would have caused his device to end up in Levi's car. Maybe he had left it there yesterday, after Levi picked him up from school. He did touch up his project on his laptop on the way home.

With a shrug he reached out and snagged the thin black device, shoving it in the pocket of his jeans. A few minutes later they rolled up in front of his school and he hopped out. The door had just barely shut behind him when Levi tore off, sending chunks of gravel spraying in all directions.

"Bye!" Fran called after the departing vehicle in annoyance. "Asshole."

He went through the front doors and stopped by his locker, stuffing in his backpack and removing the books he would need for his first couple of classes. He entered his classroom to see a few students lined up near the teacher's desk. Fran joined the queue, idly twirling the memory stick between his fingers. When he reached the front of the line his teacher smiled at him.

"Good morning, Fran!"

"Morning," he mumbled back, handing over the device.

She popped it into her computer and frowned when an odd message screen popped up. "Encrypted? Do you need to enter your password for me to access your assignment file?"

Fran craned his head to peer at the screen. A black box flashed, demanding a code in order to unlock the content on the memory stick. It took a second to realize that this was most definitely not his U.S.B. port. It took another few seconds before it struck him that this belonged to Levi, and probably contained information he needed for the meeting.

Crap.

"Sorry. Wrong one." Fran gave a shrug of his shoulders as he promptly plucked it back into his possession. "Guess I mixed it up with one my family members."

"It happens," she said with an understanding expression. "Tell you what, if you bring the right device in tomorrow, I'll let you hand in the assignment. But not a day later."

"Sure. No problem."

With a few minutes before class was to officially start, Fran went back to his locker to dig out his cell phone. There weren't any angry messages yet, so Levi hadn't discovered what was missing from his vehicle.

Hey. Accidentally took the memory stick from your car. It's in my locker if you want to come and get it.

He typed out the text to Levi and pressed the send button before tossing his phone and the device in his locker. He slammed the door shut, making sure the combination lock was secure, and returned to class.

…

The third and final sign that his day was not going to go well was when absolute rage cut through him, causing him to fumble with his pencil and smudge his math equation. But he paid it no mind as he slouched further over his desk, his mind racing.

Clearly, that memory stick had been more important than he thought.

Anger burned through his bond and Fran grit his teeth against it. He shot a glance towards the classroom door, knowing that his phone probably contained a thousand messages. After a moment of debate, he slowly turned back around and picked up his pencil, though he didn't continue with his work.

It had been an hour since he sent Levi the text. Judging by the anger snapping through his chest, Fran figured he had not come to pick it up.

'Get your crap. You better be waiting outside by the time I get there. And you better not be stupid enough to forget the U.S.B.'

Mammon's voice burst through his mind, tight and furious, and Fran grimaced. 'It was an accident, all right?'

'Oh, it's more than an accident. You effed up. Get your ass outside.'

Fran stood up, grabbed his books, and walked stiffly out of class, ignoring his teacher's startled calls to come back. He stopped by his locker, seizing the memory stick in an iron hold, and used his other arm to shove his stuff into his bag. He slung it over his shoulder and walked outside, where his only reprieve was that it had finally stopped raining.

Mammon's car rolled up, spraying up a mist as it pulled against the curb. Fran jogged down the steps and threw open the back door. He reached over and dropped the memory stick into the cup holder and promptly shrunk himself into the backseat.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Mammon growled.

He slammed his foot against the gas pedal and Fran's head smacked against the seat from the abrupt and unexpected take off. "No," he said flatly. "I told him he could come and get it."

"The meeting was an hour away. He didn't find out it was gone until he arrived. He couldn't do crap without it. Why the hell did you take it from Levi?"

"I thought it was mine."

"Are you stupid?" demanded Mammon. "Why the hell would your memory stick be in Levi's car?"

The reasons Fran had conjured up earlier that day suddenly made zero sense and so he settled for giving a shrug. "I couldn't find mine. So I just thought it was when I saw it."

Mammon gave a disbelieving shake of his head. "I hope you can come up with a better excuse by the time we get home, or else you're a dead man."

"You freak! You little monster!" a shrill voice screamed from the depths of his memory. "You're dead! When I find you, you're dead!"

Fran's throat constricted.

When they arrived at Varia Mansion Fran braced himself for what was to come. He had faced much worse, but then again, his mother had never owned a gun.

Duck and dodge, Fran. Just duck and dodge.

With a stiff posture he ventured up the steps and through the front door. He dropped his backpack near the stairs and, despite not being given any further instructions, he knew exactly where he was meant to go. He trudged up the steps and down the hall, his heart starting to stutter in his chest the closer he got to Xanxus' office.

Xanxus was sitting in his chair as Fran crossed over the threshold. Crimson eyes roared with a furious fire as they locked onto the eleven-year-old. Fran opened his mouth, but before he could say a word a glass came flying towards him. He ducked and it shattered against the doorframe.

"What the eff is wrong with you?!"

Fran's steeled his posture and he glared at Xanxus. "What's my problem? I thought it was my memory stick! If it was really that important, then maybe Levi shouldn't have left it in the damn cupholder."

"That stick contained time-sensitive information," snarled Xanxus. "Weeks of surveillance that now mean jack all! The targets have already effing moved on. We're going to track down leads all over again. All because you were a moron!"

The coffee mug flew at him next. Fran's breath caught in his chest but he forced it out, rolling as the mug slammed against the wall. "Sorry," he bit out. "But if the stuff on that stick was so time-sensitive, you shouldn't have had the meeting an hour away."

The gunshot echoed in the space and Fran dove to the ground. The bullet lodged into the plaster and Fran quickly shoved himself up—just in time to get a stapler to the face.

The force knocked him backwards and his nose burst open with blood. It poured down his face and he hastily clapped his hands over it to try and stem the flow. It gushed through his fingers and ran down his wrists and for a second his heart stopped.

He was curled up in his closet, clutching at his side. The blood wouldn't stop, it just kept pouring out of him. He heard her storming outside the door, screaming at him, pounding against the wood. He tucked himself tighter into a ball, the pool of blood growing beneath his small form.

His head cracked off something solid and stars interrupted his flashback. Xanxus held him by the front of his shirt, his eyes narrowed into slits. "I'm sick of you. Running your mouth off and causing mierda. You may be useless, but somehow you are going to pay for this."

I thought the payment was you busting my face in.

But Fran kept his lips sealed this time, settling for a glower. Xanxus let go and Fran dropped to his feet. "Get out of my face," said Xanxus in disgust.

He turned his back and Fran walked out of the room, making a beeline for his bedroom. He dug through his pocket and removed an old, worn key. He stepped into his closet, shut the door behind him and locked it.

With a trembling breath he sank to the carpeted floor and curled into a ball, hands pressed tightly against his nose, heart stuttering in his chest as ruby red fell to the gray carpet like rain.

…

Levi gingerly pressed his fingers against his cheek. Lussuria watched his movements and gave a soft click of his tongue. "Do you doubt my abilities?"

"No," grumbled Levi. "But why does it still hurt?"

"Phantom pain," said Lussuria with far too much cheer. "He did nearly break your jaw."

"Wasn't even my fault," said Levi murderously. "That brat. Taking crap from my car."

"Of course it was your fault," spoke Belphegor with a wide grin. "Leaving important information in plain sight. How stupid can you get?"

"It was in my pocket up until I had to bring the runt to school," said Levi through gritted teeth. "I didn't think he'd look twice at it, let alone take it."

"You didn't even call him when you first found out," continued Belphegor. "You waited an hour. What were you expecting?"

"There wasn't crap I could do," shot back Levi. "Two hours had been wasted and now we're completely off schedule."

"Shut the hell up. It's as much your effing fault as it is his."

Levi straightened up from his slouched position when Xanxus appeared in the living room doorway. "Yes, Boss. I'm very sorry for letting this happen."

"I'm sorry you didn't break his jaw," said Belphegor with a snicker.

"Still tempted," said Xanxus flatly. "You're going to reschedule the meeting."

"But we don't know when—"

"Effing guess. Use the timeframe we gathered from the first round of surveillance. If it effing takes longer then change the day. Just get it started. Our window of opportunity effing closed and now we're going to have break it effing open with whatever we can. Go."

Levi didn't need to be told twice and he hurried past Xanxus, not bothering to try and avoid the swat Xanxus aimed at his head. Lussuria regarded Xanxus with sympathy, not missing the way his shoulders were raised and tight with tension.

"It'll get sorted."

"It better," growled Xanxus.

"How's Fran-chan doing?" asked Lussuria with a furrowed brow. "He hasn't been to see me."

Xanxus processed this piece of information and gave a frustrated sigh. "Then he's probably drowned in his own blood by now."

He turned on his heel and stormed upstairs. He took a second to focus on his bonds, but felt only Levi's bitterness and Mammon and Squalo's frustration for having to track down the information a second time. There was nothing from Fran, which wasn't entirely surprising. The kid was the one most likely to distance himself when he felt the emotions were too much.

Xanxus kicked open the door to Fran's room, only to reveal an empty space. "What the eff?"

Before he could entertain the panic-inducing thoughts that Fran had fled, a voice said, "He's in the closet."

He had been distracted enough by his agitation that he didn't notice Belphegor come up behind him. Xanxus snapped his attention to the blonde, the brief burst of panic settling into suspicion. "What?"

"He's in the closet," repeated Belphegor.

Xanxus swivelled his gaze between the closed closet door and Belphegor, who stood a few feet away from him. He strode across the room and twisted the closet doorknob but it was locked. Xanxus stared at the handle and it took a few seconds before realization hit.

Every closet in the mansion had a lock. But the locks were always on the outside, not the inside. There was no lock on the doorknob in Xanxus' hand, which meant Fran had intentionally switched them around.

Belphegor tensed as Xanxus slowly turned to stare him. "Get. In. My. Office."

Once Belphegor was gone Xanxus gave a mighty yank and the door was wrenched off its hinges. Fran quickly unfurled himself, green eyes tight with apprehension and blood matting his face and hands. "Drop it," Xanxus snarled.

Fran's eyes clouded with confusion. Xanxus tapped his chest and though the boy seemed reluctant, he obeyed.

A wave of anxiety and fear coursed through him, seizing his chest and making difficult to breathe. Fran stared steadily at the floor, his posture hunching, and Xanxus closed his eyes.

Damn.

"Go see Lussuria."

Fran eyed him warily. "What?"

"You heard me," said Xanxus impatiently. "Then get your ass back here."

Fran scuttled by Xanxus, his shoulders curling forwards as he instinctually pulled in on himself. He disappeared out the door and down the stairs. Rubbing a hand down his face, Xanxus barked, "Levi!"

Levi came hurrying around the corner in seconds. "Yes Boss?"

"Take this door down," he instructed, jerking his head towards Fran's bedroom door. "And take his closet door out of here as well."

Levi peered into Fran's room and his eyebrows flew up at the sight of the closet door resting haphazardly against the wall. "What the hell happened?"

"Later," said Xanxus curtly. "Just get the crap out of here."

Xanxus rubbed at his temples, feeling a headache start to build. He returned to his office to see Belphegor slouched in the chair across from his desk. Xanxus grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and pulled him to his feet, landing one hard swat to his backside.

Belphegor yelped in surprise and wriggled away. Xanxus let him, and he snapped, "I am trying to rid him of the habits he developed because of that cagna. How long has he been doing this?"

"Probably since he got here," said Belphegor with a shrug. "I only found out a month ago."

"And you didn't effing say anything?"

Belphegor recoiled as Xanxus took a threatening step towards him. "He said he wouldn't do it again!"

"That doesn't answer my question," Xanxus growled.

"You were already pissed. The kid didn't know how to deal with it. I didn't want to make it worse."

"I didn't realize I beat him for displaying signs of the trauma he went through," said Xanxus with heavy sarcasm.

Belphegor didn't really have anything to say to that. Whenever Fran had one of his moments, Xanxus would give him a swat to the head or a shove to the shoulder, but nothing serious. "He just doesn't know," Belphegor repeated. "He wouldn't leave the closet when I asked, and he was in a fragile enough state that I didn't want to threaten him. So I just said if he did it again, I'd tell you. And he said he wouldn't."

"And you believed him?" asked Xanxus incredulously.

"Well, no, but I figured the next time you went off on him I'd let you know. I just didn't get the chance to check."

"Is everyone in this place trying to piss me off today?"

Belphegor shrugged. "I guess it's not anyone's day."

"Get out of here. You're grounded for a week."

Belphegor's expression wrinkled with annoyance, but he knew better than to argue. "Fine."

He retreated to his room and Xanxus scrubbed a hand down his face. "What a effing day," he muttered.

Fran returned ten minutes later; his frog hood pulled low over his eyes. He stopped a few feet away and Xanxus exhaled sharply through his nose. He was in front of the boy in two strides and he hooked a finger beneath his chin, forcing green eyes to meet crimson.

"We don't cower."

Indigence intermingled with his apprehension and Fran bristled. "I'm not."

"You're so hunched over you're going to effing break your back. Sit."

Fran lowered into the chair and Xanxus resumed leaning against his desk. He regarded the boy's face, which was free of blood. His nose seemed to be in one piece, not that Xanxus believed he had properly broken it.

"The next time I bust your face, or any part of your body, your first course of action is to see Lussuria," Xanxus said flatly.

Fran's brow crinkled. "Oh."

Xanxus frowned. "I would say I thought that was obvious, but given your past, I suppose I should have made that clear."

"Usually the point of inflicting pain is to make them suffer," said Fran tonelessly.

"Usually," agreed Xanxus. "But believe me, if I want you to suffer, you'll know. And when I want you dead, you'll be dead, without realizing it's coming." It was the emphasis on the last bit that caused Fran some pause. The anxiety flowing through their bond eased, settling into a slow-rolling wave. Xanxus crossed his arms over his chest and asked, "How long have you been hiding in the closet?"

"It's not hiding," Fran said hotly. "It's self-preservation."

"How long?" repeated Xanxus.

"My whole life, okay?" said Fran tiredly. He slumped in his chair as emotional exhaustion descended upon him, the tension practically fleeing his body as he finally accepted that Xanxus wasn't going to hurt him, not severely, anyway, and he certainly wasn't going to kill him. "I did it when I lived with Master and the others, back in Japan, but they never caught on."

"How many times did you do it there?"

"Why does it matter?"

"I'm still pissed at you, so don't press your luck," warned Xanxus. "Answer the effing question."

"Uh…" Fran searched through the depths of his memory, unable to come up with a number from the top of his head. "Three, maybe?"

Ken had only ever been annoyed with him, and it was easy to avoid his punches and kicks. Chrome never once lifted a finger to him and Chikusa was unfazed by most of his remarks, so Fran stopped trying to get a rise out of him. He had ticked Mukuro off a few times by ignoring his orders when it came to his training, and the result of his rage had him barricading himself in his closet in their apartment. Not that Mukuro had ever figured it out.

"And here?"

This one was easier to remember. "Two. Including today."

"With the cagna?"

His eyes shifting to the floor, Fran muttered, "Every other day."

"Look up." When the eleven-year-old met his gaze, Xanxus said bluntly, "When you screw up our jobs or properly piss me off, I'm going to kick your ass. But I'm not going to kill you, small trash. If I didn't want you here, you wouldn't be here. This is the last time you use your closet as a refuge from my anger. You don't need it." He paused for a moment before adding, "Not that that effing door would have been able to keep me out."

Fran's ears turned red with embarrassment. "Well, it kept her from getting to me."

"I'm not her."

"That should make you more terrifying, considering you have guns and she didn't, but somehow that actually makes me feel better." Fran rubbed the back of his neck and he sent Xanxus a hesitant look. "I know you're not her. But sometimes…well, she always told me that I wasn't worth the air I breathed, so she would try and stop me from breathing altogether. So I guess I'm preparing for the moment you realize that too."

Xanxus straightened and reached out. This time Fran did not recoil, sitting still as Xanxus framed his face with his hands. "Not going to happen, small trash."

Xanxus' affection flowed through him and Fran gave a small smile. "Thanks."

"Stop hiding in the effing closet. Actually, you're giving me the key."

Xanxus was not prepared for Fran reaching into his pocket and promptly removing said key. At the raised brow Xanxus aimed at him, Fran shrugged. "It's a habit I picked up, always carrying it on me. Like I said, self-preservation."

"This is one self-preservation habit you're going to lose," said Xanxus with a roll of his eyes. He lowered his hands and snatched the key, dropping it onto his desk. "Any more I need to know about?"

"No, I don't think so. Then again, I could have repressed them."

Xanxus regarded him with narrowed eyes, but Fran's blank face and flat green eyes didn't give anything away. His emotions were calmer and Xanxus figured the kid was telling the truth.

"You're grounded for a week."

Fran frowned. "I don't think you're allowed to ground me for results of inflicted trauma."

"It's for the stunt you pulled with that U.S.B."

"You're still on about that?" When Xanxus glared at him Fran raised his hands. "Right. Got it. Grounded for a week."

"Get out of here."

Fran shoved his hands into his pockets and headed back to his room. He stilled at the sight of a naked front door, the door and hinges completely removed. He took a step inside and groaned when he discovered that his closet door was also gone.

"Xanxus!"

The man appeared at the end of hall with a scowl. "Don't even think about arguing with me, boy."

"Look, I get you don't want me to hide, and I won't, so can I please have it back?"

Fran tried and failed to keep the pleading out of his voice and his chest started to tingle with agitation. But Xanxus' warmth ironed it out and the man said firmly, "You're going to learn to cope without it, and when you do, I'll give it back."

"But my bedroom door? Seriously? What about my privacy?"

"Change in the closet," deadpanned Xanxus.

Fran glared at him. "Ha ha. Very funny. I'm pinning up a blanket."

Xanxus shrugged and turned on his heel. "Fine. Now shut up. I've still got your mess to iron out."

"Hey, if you find my memory stick, let me know!"

Xanxus did not promptly go over and knock him one for the sheer amount of sass he injected into his words, which was only an indication of just how much he loved the kid. And eventually, Fran would understand that he was a recipient of that love.