Zydrate Baby

Disclaimer- I do not own Repo! The Genetic Opera or its characters.

Plot Summary- Graverobber gets Shilo pregnant; both are unsure if it's ethical to bring a baby into their world.

Quick note: To save on confusion—bold-italic indicates a dream, while simply italic indicates a memory. Thanks!

Shilo hated taking pills, but she didn't think it'd be so difficult to take the pills Dr. Kellis sent her. Her hands seemed to shake every time she held them and her mouth simply refused to move or swallow when she got around to taking them. She knew that her body was naturally fighting what it now knew made her sick for so many years, but the reaction was surprising anyway.

She still felt sick when she was allowed to go back to school. Shilo forced herself to go none-the-less, knowing she couldn't afford to fail this class since she'd have to take two semesters off afterward. By the time she finished finals, she'd be three months pregnant, and it'd be difficult to hide the pregnancy then. Difficult, but not impossible.

So now she faced another choice; after she got out of school, should she go back into seclusion for the duration of her pregnancy? Or let it be worldwide news?

Neither option appealed to her.

"Well, we can't very well hide the kid once it's born. Someone's gonna find out sooner or later unless we follow you're dad's footsteps." That comment earned him a glare from Shilo, though he did have a point. "It's not a problem right now, so don't worry about it so much."

"I guess it's not." She sighed, leaning back in her chair. He'd be leaving soon, and she'd be left alone to ponder in her thoughts. Like how she was going to raise this child, and how she'd have to one day explain that its grandfather was a repo-man and his father is a drug dealer.

The only clear decision she could make was that she would never lie to her child. Not for its benefit and certainly not for it's harm. Her father had tried to justify his lies and manipulation; and maybe he wasn't evil like she thought he was. But the fact still remained that her father had stolen seventeen years of her life that she would never get back. She couldn't see doing that to her worst enemy, let alone her son or daughter.

It had been nearly two weeks since the GeneCo incident. Her stomach was growing and so was his agitation. Shilo tried to sympathize because he was, in all fairness, trying to make the best of the situation. She just hadn't expected him to grow so dreary so early on. It almost made her wonder how bad he would be by the end of it all.

Graverobber hadn't meant to put so much pressure on her, especially after Dr. Kellis had warned him about the poison that may or may not be in her system. All that concern was for Shilo alone, and not his so-called child.

He knew he was a terrible person for thinking that way. But that was even tolerable compared to the deeper cause to his grumpiness. The fact that he cared so much about what happened to Shilo. He knew what he was from a young age—from his younger years with a uncaring mother, to today, when just talking about this baby was enough to drive him insane. He was always calm, cool, and collected. No one stopping him from moving on. Shilo, well, any time he thought of the possibility of losing her, it was hard to stay apathetic.

These feelings of need (for better lack of words) were keeping him in this fairy-tale hell, and were really starting to get on his nerves.

Going to work was like remember how they met. The attraction was there, though hidden beneath the veil of chaos and innocence. There was something very forbidden about watching seventeen-year-old girl chase a bug that kept him intrigued. Even more interesting, was showing her the vial of zydrate, and seeing her not look at it, but rather the dramatics he was performing. It was as if, for the first time in his life, someone had noticed the vendor instead of the product.

Was that one instance that made him keep saving her? That made him come back?

()

GRAVEROBBER SIGHTED IN GRAVEYARD

Fuck. He thought, just as the blue fluid of Zydrate began to gather into the vile. The glow reflecting off his face even as red sirens flickered inside the tomb, almost creating a blinding effect. Graverobber pulled the needle out of his latest provider—Nathan Wallace.

It had been a bad idea to come to this grave, this night. Contrary to his adventurous nature, he agreed with that. But it was to resist a waiting body filled with fresh Zydrate. No matter whom the person was. Although, it wasn't off his radar that with all the events and news going on; Zydrate from the now known assassin was bound to draw high amounts of cash.

There was banging on the tomb door, as Graverobber closed Nathan's coffin. He cursed; there was no way he could get past them. He was trapped, no way out. He'd be executed on the spot.

His eyes turned to the back of the tomb and found a saving grace: a dues ex machine. It was door, cracked open. Without another thought, he ran to it, busting it and running down the hall.

Shilo was startled by the noise. The first real thing about this world that had awoken her from her numb coma. She didn't even know what day it was—only that she had ceased to live at all.

When she was awake, she either spent her time eating what little was left in the kitchen or laying out on the couch, sleeping or trying to make sense of what had happened. The most she had moved was to the shower to scrub her father's blood away from her until she bleeding her own and then to change into clean clothing every now again. Other than that, wouldn't go upstairs to where her former prison; nor would she go downstairs to her father's laboratory of death. It didn't matter though—in the end everything reminded her of what had happened; and by extension, everything made her cry.

The noise occurred again—this time louder than the first time. Shilo sat up on the couch, glancing towards the basement door, where her father hid the doorway to her mother's tomb. Her mind played with what could have happened. She hadn't dared go down the hallway since her father's demise…mostly because that particular doorway led to the tomb where he was now placed along with her rightfully returned mother.

Had someone erupted her father's grave? Perhaps to exact revenge against him? She could hardly blame someone for doing so. After all, the man she had once thought to be over-protective and all adoring turned out to be a ruthless murderer. But what would that person do if they stumbled upon her? Alone and vulnerable in this house?

She may not have had much to live for; but she still wanted to live.

"Damn…" Was all he could say when entered the basement of the Repo Man. It was like a torture chamber—the walls were lined with blood crusted weapons and photos of average looking people; most of them with a giant x marked over their face. He closed and locked the door behind him, choosing this place over the threatening doom surely coming behind him.

He tripped despite taking careful steps. He looked down and saw the decomposing body of a GenCop. Graverobber in his line of work hadn't even noticed the stench. The only reason he grimaced was because of the blade sticking clear out his neck. Stepping over the body, he made a note of perhaps coming back later to collect some Zydrate once he shook the living GenCops.

Graverobber climbed the stairs, keeping the door in sight. He had an idea of what stood on the other side. A different kind of death entirely. The remnants of a broken home, built on nothing but lies and pain. It reminded him too much of his own upbringing, but the this door was his only way to freedom.

He reached out and grabbed the knob, turning it slowly and pushing the door open. It swung open and he stepped through it. Graverobber was shocked by just how normal the little room looked even in the dark of night. The only real light that gave off, was the picture of the beautiful woman—who look eerily familiar to the kid he had met not long ago. It made sense, from what he understood, she was her mother.

The kid. He hadn't even seen her since then. Not in person anyway. He had seen pictures, heard news reports, he knew practically the entire world was looking for Shilo Wallace, but he was the only one who was worried about her beyond GeneCo. He didn't know her very well, but he was probably the only person in the world she knew, and when she had upped and disappeared (the only comment she made being that she didn't want GeneCo), he was more concerned to where she was at, as opposed to what she would do next.

Crash!

Graverobber fell over, broken shards of vase strewed around him. He groaned and grasped onto his head. After the adrenaline wore off, she saw the tress of oddly colored long hair and frowned. It couldn't be. Could it?

She flipped the man over and gasped. "Graverobber?"

"Kid?"

"Kid? I'll be home later."

"Okay." Shilo muttered as Graverobber walked down to the basement so he could use the passageway. When left alone, Shilo allowed a hand to rest on her stomach. At this point, she wasn't sure what to think of her coming arrival. There was defiantly some feeling swirling in her heart, but she for the life of her, couldn't pick it out. It didn't feel like the deep, undying love she thought most mothers should felt. Was something wrong with her?

Was she incapable of feeling love? Shilo's fingers walked across her stomach. Did she even know what love was? Her father had screwed her up in that sense. For her, love had always been the need to protect by any means necessary. By ignoring things like personal space, or imposing your will on someone. Yes, she had loved her father like a daughter was supposed to love their parent, but when it came to the idea of creating and picking love, while, she was out of it.

Graverobber to her was a completely different man. He was more hands-off with his approach towards her. He didn't force her to like him but rather did so naturally. Did she love him? She certainly cared for him more than most people. In her mind, she knew that she very much liked the idea of spending the rest of her life with that man, but had a hard time conveying it into those three words.

And if she couldn't do it for him, how could she be sure she could do it for a child?

Shilo sighed. Graverobber didn't seem offended that she had never said she loved him. He hadn't the words to her after all. She was ridiculously bothered by that. Even if she had said the words, should she have expected any different? The closest he had ever got to them were…

"Do you need some help, kid?" Graverobber asked later that night. Shilo had insisted he stay the night so she could make sure he was alright after she had hit him in the head. Tears gathered in her eyes.

"I don't know." She heaved a heavy sob and Graverobber sighed. Half-annoyed, half-sympathetic. "I don't even know where to begin…The media is hounding me, Amber's trying to call, and every surface in this place reminds me of my dad. And all I can do is cry because…I don't know what to do about it."

"Shit kid, I asked if you needed some help, I didn't ask for your life-story." Although, by this point everyone pretty much knew it. The sight of this teenaged girl, all alone with no one to call on. Well, he didn't he had a heart to break, but it weighed heavy on him. So few things did, and most of those things were better left untouched. This case, he made an exception. "What I mean is. It sucks, but it's said and done. You're just gonna have to work on it one thing at a time. Is there something that bugs you more than anything else?"

Shilo wiped the tears from her eyes and thought for a moment. Out of all the things on her mind, the heaviest was her house. If she didn't lose it from not being able to pay the bills, she couldn't live there because of the memories. "Tomorrow, if you're feeling up to it, could you maybe take the bars off the windows?"

"I could probably figure it out."

"And, after that, clear out my dad's bedroom? Help me clean out mine too?" The hopeful tone in her voice was too great to ignore. Despite his nature, he answered.

"Sure, kid. We'll do it tomorrow."

()

Graverobber had never been handy. Quick on his feet, sure. Inventive when the situation called for it, definitely. Handy? Not quite.

He flicked his finger against the bars, making his hand vibrate. Shilo watched curiously from the sidelines. It was just nice to see something other than anguish from her. "I don't suppose your dad had any like, power saws did he?"

Shilo had a blank look on her face. She didn't know? How is that possible? "Not even a little hand-held saw? Or, hell, a knife would even work at this point."

She nestled one foot against the other. Seriously? Did she even know what any of these things were? Was she really that sheltered?

Then, he felt like a dick when she answered quietly. "If he did, they're in the basement."

He grimaced when he realized that Shilo knew where her father had kept all his little killing and torture devices. Maybe had gone poking around after his death and had found the rotting corpse (her father had somehow found a way to conceal the scents of death from the rest of the house, so maybe she didn't know that little fact). He grinded his teeth as he remembered exactly why he stopped offering help to other people. One little thing tended to grow into a lot of different things.

"Alright, I guess just add clearing the basement out to the list."

"Why bother?" She responded matter-of-fact like. "I'm never going down there again."

"Well, how do you think you're going to pay me back for all that work, kid?" He teased carefully. Shilo did crack a small smile. "I'd say a good start is letting me use that passage way. Be a hell of a lot easier than sneaking in the front of the graveyard. I'll clean it out myself if I have to."

Shilo thought about it for a moment. "I guess that's okay…You could even use the basement for work if you want."

After that, he ventured down and did, in fact, find a blood stained electric saw. He sliced all of the bars from the windows. When he was finished, he wanted to boost to Shilo, who was no longer in sight. He found her upstairs, starting to clean up her room, so deep in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed him.

He watched as she tore things off her wall, pushed medical equipment away from her bed, and sort through clothes that were obviously not her size. Graverobber would notice every now and then, her wrist-phone would remind her to take her medicine. She simply shut it off and proceeded as normal. He could see Shilo growing tired and more weak, sometimes stumbling as she walked. But she never stopped working.

"Hey kid, why don't you take a rest?" Shilo shook her head and kept working. He tried commanding her and she just ignored him. She was getting pale and sweaty, but still insisted on working.

So, rather than tell her to stop, he started helping her to get the job done faster.

()

He found himself late in the night unconsciously walking. It would be morning soon but couldn't make himself return home. Graverobber still had too much on his mind, too much plaguing him.

He was walking by the pier, and knew he wasn't far from that place. It wouldn't have been so bad to drop in but decided against it and instead watched out in the distance. He had grown impartial to the ocean. Previous experiences had ruined it for him and reminded him of people better left forgotten. Sometimes, for whatever reason, he came back to it, perhaps if only because he was feeling a bit homesick.

Maybe because the pain this place brought was more tolerable than the pain he was feeling now.

In the distance, loud laughter could be heard. He noticed something he would have never given the time of day before. Two children, a boy and a girl (or maybe a boy with really long hair) were running about the beach while their mother (at least he could assume that's who she was) was lying in the sand passed out. Judging by how much fun they were having, this was a normal occurrence.

The scene was laughable in a sadistic way. It was also soul-crushing—the very reason he didn't want to be a father. This world didn't care for it's children like they once did. Fashion and selfishness took priority. What's worse; blood didn't make people care. It didn't matter if you had someone to suffer with. In the end, you were all alone in this dark world.

He didn't want to be the woman who stirred slightly before waking. Just so she could yell 'Shut the fuck up!' at her kids. Whatever joy the brother and sister had, was sucked out of them as they treaded to a stop.

Graverobber had seen enough. He felt the sudden desire to return home. To be where someone cared rather than just dealt with him as a problem.

That seemed to be his mantra lately. Only for Shilo.