Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Elliot flipped the sign in the front of the store to ‘OPEN’ with a smile. Today was a new day.

He stepped behind the counter as customers began to wander in, ordering all sorts of things. The morning people seemed to be more patient than the rest of the day, which was a positive. He knew the lunch rush would come soon enough, but for now, he didn’t have to deal with any angry people.

He hummed softly to himself as he went to the back, helping around in the kitchen where assistance was needed. He was practically the manager with how often he rushed around to help others. 

He didn’t mind, though. In fact, he quite enjoyed helping other people and seeing them smile. Dealing with the ‘Karens’ was worth it when he got to see all the other people happy, he thought, as he got on his bike with a stack of pizza boxes. 

He read the label again. The address was on the other side of town, and the order was shockingly large. Nine pizzas along with sides… this was going to be a long drive.

Elliot nodded along to the music playing through his cheap, barely-working earphones as he drove down the road. He didn’t want to buy new ones—they still worked, and he wanted to save the money, just in case. Besides, he could still focus since the volume was somehow stuck on low. 

As Elliot got closer to the address, he couldn’t help but admire the streets he was driving through. The houses got fancier and more expensive as time went on, to ones he couldn’t even fathom getting close to affording. He couldn’t help but wonder if anyone actually lived in them.

Eventually, his bike came to a stop outside a large, black gate. He felt unnaturally nervous—he’s never been in this part of town before. As he got off his bike and tried to carry the many boxes, he locked eyes with the guard near the gate. He froze, his stomach sinking. They looked so strangely intimidating. Elliot forced a smile, putting on his best customer service tone.

“Good evening…” He began, trying not to stammer too much. “I-I have a delivery for… M?”

The guard stared him down for a few moments, long enough to make him break out in a nervous sweat, before nodding slowly. They took a small radio out of their pocket, murmuring something into it before putting it away.

After what felt like ages of awkward silence, another figure approached the gate as it opened. He was much more intimidating than the other guard, if that was even possible. He was tall and muscular, his fedora and large black coat shrouding him with darkness. 

“I’ll take those, thank you.”

Elliot froze up completely as the man, who he could only assume was the owner of the property, stepped forward, taking the boxes out of his hand with ease. He handed them to another, slightly shorter man who scurried inside with a grin. 

“How much do I owe you?” 

He had a deep, thick accent, causing Elliot to take a moment before responding. He was unbelievably scared of messing up somehow. He looked down at the receipt with shaking hands, reading off the number.

“A-about 120R$, Sir…” 

The man chuckled at Elliot’s words, which only served to make him more anxious. Had he messed up somehow? But he seemed more amused than angry. He pulled a stack of bills out of his large coat and placed it in Elliot’s palm.

“Keep the change.” He said before turning around, waving his hand dismissively. “Now, scram.”

Elliot nodded quickly, not bothering to check the amount of cash until he was on his bike and further away from that area. Once he was far enough, he let out a heavy sigh, shaking off the weird anxious feeling. He stopped on the side of the road, counting the bills he had hurriedly stuffed in his pocket. He did say to keep the change…

His eyes widened with surprise as he finished counting. In his pocket was almost 200R$ in pure cash. That was an 80R$ tip! His heart raced as he counted over and over, barely able to believe it. He knew they were rich, but this was ridiculous… but not a bad thing. It was scary, but that big of a tip was definitely worth it. 

Elliot hurried back to the Pizza Place, feeling almost giddy with the knowledge of getting such a large tip. Maybe that part of town wasn’t so bad after all. 

—

“Did you see that, boss?” Contractee said as he carried the boxes inside, grinning. “He looked like he was going to pass out!”

Mafioso nodded silently, trying not to show his amusement at his reaction. He was used to being feared, but that poor delivery boy looked as if he thought his life was over. In fact, he gave him a little extra tip just because. 

He watched as his men attacked the pizza boxes like wild animals, searching for everything each of them had ordered. He looked at the crumpled receipt in his hands, smiling to himself. 

“Elliot, hm?”

He left the room abruptly, walking through the hallways until he found who he was looking for—one of his staff who specialised in finding information. Mafioso placed the receipt on his desk, lifting his fedora just slightly.

“I want you to find out more about this… Elliot.” He paused, before continuing. “All the information you can find.” 

He nodded quickly, not questioning Mafioso’s orders or the reasoning behind them. After all, doing so was practically a death sentence. Still, he couldn’t help but be a little curious. “You mean… the one who delivered the pizza, boss?”

Mafioso paused at his questioning, before nodding. “In case he has… ulterior motives.” He said nothing else, leaving the room. He made his way to the balcony, looking over the town. He sat there in silence, thinking. 

He could see the Pizza Place from this height. He didn’t quite understand why, but this simple person had piqued his interest. There was just something about him… he could be the perfect subject. 

Chapter Text

Mafioso paused in his thoughts as he heard knocking on the door to his office. 

“...come in.” 

The door slowly creaked open, and Caporegime stepped in, placing a stack of files on his desk. Mafioso smiled, pleased. “Wonderful. Did you discover anything… interesting?”

“No, boss.” Caporegime shook his head. “He’s rather… boring, really.”

Mafioso flipped through the documents, full of information about this Elliot he had requested intel on. It was true, really—he didn’t do much. He lived in a small apartment, spent most time working, and rarely went out to do anything fun. Hell, did this guy have any friends? Mafioso felt the smallest twinge of guilt before he brushed it off. He had no time to care for someone so pitiful.

“Good. This is just what I was looking for.” He concluded after a long minute, putting the papers aside. He waved off Caporegime, who quickly left the room, leaving him alone once more. 

Mafioso read the papers over and over again, glancing out the window at the distant pizza place. He was curious about this innocent worker—and interested. Caporegime’s intel showed Elliot had little to no friends, and from their brief interaction he was clearly scared of Mafioso himself. He wondered if he would immediately oblige to whatever he said, or if he would scamper off like a scared animal. Both seemed equally plausible. 

Eventually, he called over another one of his staff. Within moments, Contractee stumbled in, his clumsiness making Mafioso sigh before ordering him. “You can order pizza tonight. Just try not to sound suspicious… and make sure to get the same delivery boy as last week.”

Contractee didn’t question it. He nodded quickly, running out to announce the good news to the others. They all didn’t hesitate to make another giant order, making sure to request Elliot to deliver it.

—

“Elliot!”

Elliot hurried over when he heard his co-worker calling his name. “Yes?” He assumed they needed help with something like usual, but instead got a strange request.

“We have another big order from the rich neighborhood. They requested you specifically… for some reason.” 

Elliot seemed just as confused as his co-worker, but took the receipt either way. It was in fact a large order, and it was from the same neighborhood. He felt himself get a little nervous when he recognized the address. Were they going to finish the job?

Still, he couldn’t just deny service because he was scared. He piled the pizzas and sides into the back of his bike before starting to drive all the way back. 

It had been over a week… in fact, he had completely forgotten about the entire incident until now. Well, not really. He was still feeling the high from the giant tip he had gotten last time. He kept reminding himself about said tip as he drove, trying to distract himself from all the intimidating people he had come across last time. 

Despite his attempts to distract himself, Elliot got more worried as the drive went on. He wasn’t sure why, but he just had a bad feeling about it. Like he never should have taken the order. Why would they request him specifically? And how did they know his full name? Swallowing his anxiety, he slowed down his bike as he got closer to the address.

By the time he saw the large mansion in the distance, it was almost night, the area only illuminated by the glowing street lights. Elliot was usually fine with night deliveries—it was a safe town, after all. But he had been on edge lately, jumping at every little thing. It felt like eyes were on him at all times, watching his every move. It wasn’t a comfortable sensation. 

—

“Alright, this is your time.” Mafioso sternly ordered Consigliere, who nodded solemnly at his every word. “I just need you to leave this at his door then come back. Understood?” 

“Yes, boss. Understood. I will return in no time.”

—

After a drive that felt longer than last time, Elliot finally stopped outside the address on the order. He approached the guard slowly, trying to act as normal as he could. 

“I have an order for M? They… requested me, specifically?” 

The guard raised an eyebrow at this, before speaking into their radio again. They never seemed to take their eyes off of Elliot, not helping with his anxiety. 

Eventually, the gate opened again, and the same tall, intimidating man walked out, alone this time. Before Elliot could say the price, he simply took the pizza boxes in silence, before leaving a stack of bills in his hand. 

Elliot stopped himself from flinching as the money was placed in his hand, not bothering to stall and count it in front of him. It almost seemed rude to speak in his presence. Instead, he left as fast as he came. 

When he finally got back to the Pizza Place, he made sure he was alone in the break room before counting how much of a tip he had gotten this time. It seemed to count up to about 100R$ tip… which was even more ridiculous than last time. 

Elliot quickly stuffed the tip cash in his pocket, trying not to celebrate too obviously. This much was insanity—yes, he often made it to addresses in time without damaging their food, but that felt like the bare minimum. This much money could get him proper groceries, instead of instant noodles for… he didn’t know how long, really. But it was a lot of money, especially given he was just doing his job. His anxiety had completely dissipated at this point. 

Elliot practically skipped home once his shift was over. He had gotten 180R$ in tips from this one address, and in two orders! He couldn’t help but hope he could deliver to them more.

When Elliot made it home, he almost tripped over a box just outside his front door. He paused, looking down at it with confusion. He hadn’t ordered anything. In fact, there wasn’t any name or address on it, either. He slowly picked it up, feeling its weight before taking it inside.

He knew he shouldn’t open strange unnamed boxes that showed up at his front door, but his curiosity was intense. If it was for someone else, it would have their address, right?

Elliot tore the tape, slowly opening the box. The events as of late all felt strangely connected, but he tried to ignore it. As he looked inside, he raised an eyebrow with curiosity, before his heart sank.

The first thing he saw was a black ceramic bunny; no wonder the box had that weight to it. But underneath the sculpture was a variety of pictures—pictures of him. They were taken from afar, with dates and times written in sickly fancy red ink in the corner of each one. They were of him working, cooking, delivering, and even heading home. Times when he thought he was alone, but when he felt like he was being watched either way. 

Elliot dropped the pictures, scattering them around the floor as fear rose in his chest. He looked around in a panic before shutting all of his blinds, still feeling eyes on him. He raced to his room, locking himself inside and grabbing his phone off the nightstand.

His hands shook so violently he could barely type in the numbers. 9-1-1. Tears welled up in his eyes as he waited and waited for what felt like an eternity for the ringing to stop.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“I… I-I think I’m being stalked… a-and they know where I live.”

“Alright, we’re sending dispatch to your location right now. Stay where you are.”

— 

“Boss… I believe he’s called the police.” 

Mafioso stood up abruptly, practically tearing the binoculars out of Caporegime’s hands and getting a closer look. In the distance, he could see a police car stopping just outside Elliot’s home, multiple officers stepping out. His voice was low and stern when he spoke. “He’s more paranoid than I thought… you left no evidence, correct?”

Caporegime nodded quickly, knowing not to induce his boss’ wrath. “Of course, boss.” He wasn’t sure why he was so interested in this specific delivery boy, but it was also entertaining watching him panic. 

—

“I’m sorry, but we couldn’t find any fingerprints or other evidence of who could have left this here.” The officer’s words echoed in Elliot’s head as they spoke. “But you can call us if anything else happens.”

Elliot stood in silence as the officers packed up and left. He was alone again, but it didn’t feel like it. He couldn’t afford cameras—not if he wanted to have any money left. While the tips given to him were large, they were nothing compared to the prices of a proper security system. 

He eventually went back inside, locking every door and window in the house as well as closing all the blinds. Still, he couldn’t sleep. He lay awake in bed, staring at the dark room around him. It felt as if something would jump out at him at any moment. 

He closed his eyes tightly, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. Why him? What had he done wrong? And who was tormenting him like this?

Chapter Text

Elliot awoke to the sound of heavy knocking. He groaned, his lack of rest making him want to just stay in bed. But it sounded important. He sat up, smoothing his clothes and heading to the front door. 

When he opened it, he was met with a tall, serious-looking man in a long coat. His voice was deep, almost vaguely familiar, but also new.

“Good morning. Are you Elliot?”

Elliot nodded, feeling a little nervous. When people knew his name, it probably meant they were here for a reason. The man offered his hand, which he hesitantly shook.

“Call me Don. I’m a private detective. I’d like to ask you a few questions about what’s happened yesterday, if you don’t mind.

Elliot felt a wave of relief at his words. Maybe he would be safe after all. He nodded, stepping aside to let him in. He wasn’t sure who this guy was, but at least someone was there to help. 

“So, Don…” Elliot paused, walking over to the box on the table. It was in the same state as the night before, with the pictures scattered on the floor. The sight almost made him start trembling again.

“I-I found this box on my front porch yesterday… it had all these pictures inside of it. And now… I don’t know who it is and I feel like I’m being watched.” 

‘Don’ listened intently, nodding. “And the police couldn’t find anything?”

Elliot shook his head. He just wanted to work like normal, and now his house was being investigated for some kind of stalker. He wished he’d never opened the box, just ignored it. Eventually, the detective spoke. 

“Well… it might take some time to find evidence and clues. Do you feel safe here?”

Elliot shook his head again, quicker this time. “No… not at all. But I have nowhere to go.”

At his words, a plan formed in Mafioso’s mind. He smiled to himself, but made his voice seem gentle and caring as he spoke. 

“You can come stay with me for a while.”

Elliot looked up at him, his eyes widening. “Really?”

“Yes. My place has guards and security. I promise you’ll be safe there.”

Elliot hesitated. It was obvious he had a hard time trusting, especially since the entire ordeal recently. After thinking for a while, he nodded slowly. Anything was safer than here, right?

Mafioso tried not to smile too bright. His plan was coming along perfectly. He stood up, offering his hand.

“Come on. It’s not far.” 

Elliot slowly took his hand, surprised at how much larger it was to his own. He felt oddly protected as he was walked out to the detective’s surprisingly sleek, fancy car. It was absolutely spotless, and smelled brand new. Elliot felt strangely out of place in it. 

“T-thank you… Don. Really.”

“Oh, no need to call me that.” He chuckled, one hand on the steering wheel while the other moved discreetly to lock all the doors and windows. 

“Call me Mafioso .”

Elliot’s heart sank. Mafioso… leader of the most feared mafia group for miles. He heard the doors lock. He was trapped. His heart started racing, and he tried to keep his cool.

“M-mafioso? Y-you mean… the Mafioso?”

Mafioso laughed at Elliot’s reaction. “Calm down. I’m not gonna kill ya.” 

Elliot didn’t calm down whatsoever, but he still tried to sit still. The last thing he wanted to do was anger Mafioso. He watched the scenery fly by as he was driven to who knows where by someone who definitely didn’t have innocent intentions. 

Mafioso grinned. “Good. Sit still. I have a lot to say.”

“You see, I’m not just a part of the mafia. That’s a front, really.”

Elliot couldn’t help but listen as he rambled on. This information could be important. Besides, he was kind of used to eavesdropping on conversations to where it was involuntary.

“In fact… I’m a scientist. And not just any scientist… I’m going to make a breakthrough that will be remembered for generations!”

The car stopped in front of a large mansion. Mafioso grabbed Elliot’s arm, continuing.

“And that’s where you come in. You’re going to help me. Isn’t that wonderful? Isn’t it wonderful to be a part of something so incredible?”

Elliot nodded slowly, just trying not to get killed. Mafioso unlocked the car, but not before his goons were already outside Elliot’s door, prepared in case he tried anything. 

“Boss! Is this him?” One of the goons asked.

Mafioso nodded. Another one spoke, though all of them were kind of talking over each other.

“What do we do?” “Why is he here?” “How’d you get him to listen?” They all rambled on, before he raised a hand to silence them.

“Calm down, boys. This is an important matter.”

Mafioso placed a hand on Elliot’s back, making him shiver involuntarily. He led him inside, through the intricate, definitely expensive halls before stopping at a corner. 

He crouched down, pulling up the carpet to reveal an old, dusty trapdoor. He smiled, pleased. 

“What is this?” Elliot asked hesitantly, despite knowing he should stay silent. 

“You’ll see.”

Mafioso used a key around his neck to unlock the trapdoor, before lifting it open with a grunt. It revealed a long staircase that stretched deep into the dark void below. It was oddly terrifying. Still, he stepped down, dragging Elliot along with him. 

Elliot almost tripped down the stairs a few times on the way down, but Mafioso seemed to know it like the back of his hand. Eventually, he clicked on a switch, which illuminated a large, lab-like room in bright white lights. Elliot winced, his eyes immediately hurting. 

“Welcome to my lab!” Mafioso grinned wider, clearly very eager to show off his work. The entire place was spotless, as if nothing had happened there. Not yet, at least. 

“Now,” he turned back to face Elliot, “I need you to step into this room over here. Only for a short moment, I promise.”

Elliot hesitated. This whole situation was already suspicious—hell, he was practically kidnapped and taken here against his will. But he could already tell his hesitation was starting to test Mafioso’s patience. His situation was bad, but refusing to obey could lead to his death.

Eventually, he took a deep breath, stepping into the room he was told to go in. It was a small, empty room, with nothing but a white, visibly uncomfortable bed. And, of course, the giant window that covered almost one whole entire wall. It was weird. He felt like a test subject. 

“Mafioso? What is this?” He asked, but Mafioso didn’t seem to hear him. He seemed to be sorting different tools and utensils on a small table. Eventually, he approached the glass. 

“Alright, Elliot. I need you to be brave for me.” He began, opening the door and stepping inside the room. His coat had multiple tools in it. It made him nervous. “Give me your hand.”

Elliot gulped. He didn’t want to. Mafioso spoke again, his voice stronger now.

“I said, give me your hand. " 

Elliot nodded quickly, holding out his hand. Mafioso calmed down at his obedience. He grabbed his hand before raising a small dagger to his palm. Elliot panicked and tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong. 

“Calm down, little one. It’ll hurt less if you relax.”

Elliot’s heart was pounding. He took a deep breath, trembling. Eventually, he nodded. 

“O-okay…”

Mafioso smiled. He brought the knife to Elliot’s palm, making a small cut. He gasped at the stinging pain, tears shimmering in his eyes. “I-it hurts…!”

“Shh…” he murmured, taking a small vial from his coat. It seemed to glow faintly under the light. Elliot didn’t have time to ask what it even was before it was poured on the wound. 

Elliot stumbled back, his eyes widening as a burning pain tore through his hand. He cradled his hand, watching the substance simmer on his palm. 

“W-what was that?!” He asked, tears streaming down his face. Mafioso just grabbed his hand, wrapping it up with a bandage. 

“Don’t touch it.” He ordered, leaving the room to watch Elliot from the window. “And let me know if anything happens.”

“W-well…” Elliot took a deep breath, trying to find his voice. He didn’t know why he was obeying like this, but it just felt like the safest way to get out alive. “I-it burns… and feels all… bubbly…” 

Mafioso nodded, writing something down on a notepad. 

Eventually, the pain in Elliot’s hand faded, replaced by a warm sensation spreading through his arm. He relayed all of this to Mafioso, even though he probably should be refusing to say a word. 

“Good, good… you’re doing so well.” Mafioso praised, which gave Elliot an odd, fluttery feeling in his chest. “Press that button if you need me, okay?”

Elliot nodded quickly, looking away to hide the warmth rising to his cheeks. Mafioso returned upstairs, leaving him alone. 

—

Mafioso read through his notes over and over, smiling to himself. Elliot had been so obedient so far… things were going even better than he planned. 

He sat at his desk, reading through his research again. Such a reaction to the substance was strange, but not bad. He couldn’t help but find himself excited to see what would happen the next day.

—

Elliot flopped onto the bed, his mind racing. Was he a test subject now? What was going to happen to him? And why do I keep ending these chapters with questions like this?

Chapter Text

Elliot stirred awake when the lights of the lab turned on once again. He could only assume it was the next day, but really, he had no idea what time it was. There were no windows, no clocks, no way to tell the time.

He looked down at his hand. The pain was gone, but it felt stiff. Maybe he slept on it wrong.

He fought the urge to peel away the bandages, but that thought was interrupted by Mafioso’s voice. It made him nervous, but it was better than the deafening silence. 

“Good morning. How are you feeling?”

Elliot approached the glass window, watching Mafioso intently. “Better… it doesn’t hurt anymore. But it feels… weird. I dunno.” 

Mafioso nodded, pleased. He opened the door of the small room, stepping inside. 

“Allow me to help you with that.”

He reached out, gently taking off each layer of bandages. Elliot stared in surprise, confusion and mild intrigue as his hand was revealed. The cut was completely healed, as if it hadn’t happened at all. But that wasn’t all. His skin was all rough, and his fingers felt stiff, like they wouldn’t bend properly. It was a little concerning, but not to Mafioso.

“Wonderful.” He smiled, inspecting Elliot’s hand thoroughly before scribbling something down in messy handwriting. “This is the best result we’ve had so far.”

“Best result?” Elliot paused, his voice quivering slightly. “Mafioso… what’s going on?”

Mafioso paused. He thought for a while, considering whether to reveal everything just yet. Eventually, he decided on something. 

“I’ll tell you,” He took another vial out of his coat, along with a syringe. “But you need to do this first.”

Elliot whimpered, his eyes widening with fear. He didn’t like needles even in a professional setting, let alone this. He tried to back up, but the room—no, the cell he was stuck in was tiny. “What will that do to me?”

“I’ll tell you after.” Mafioso shrugged, drawing up the shimmering silver liquid into the syringe. Just then, Elliot got an idea.

The door. It was cracked open just a little. Without thinking, he made a run for it, making it out of the cell. But now he was in the lab, having no idea where the exit was. That didn’t matter. He kept running, searching for the stairs.

“Where are you going?!” Mafioso shouted, chasing after him. Elliot didn’t look back.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through the back of his shoulder. He cried out, falling to his knees. Mafioso approached behind him, grinning. He had thrown the syringe with surprisingly good aim. And it hurt. A lot.

“I told you,” He scowled, injecting the strange substance as he spoke. “It’ll only hurt more if you struggle.”

Elliot said nothing, letting himself be dragged back to his cell. He felt lightheaded—from the chase, the needle, the pain… or whatever was now inside his body. Probably all of them. 

“Now… we’re not going to have any more of that, are we?” Mafioso dropped him to the floor, speaking in a condescending, expectant tone. 

Elliot didn’t fight. He nodded weakly. “Y-yes… sorry…”

“Good.” He left the room again, this time making sure to lock the door. He sat at his desk, occasionally glancing over through the window at Elliot. He was curled up on the bed in the corner, sulking from his failed escape attempt. Mafioso couldn’t help but feel a little bad. Why did he feel bad? It was Elliot’s fault for trying to escape. He deserved it.

Eventually, Mafioso groaned, standing up from his desk. He opened the fridge, taking out a honey bun. He was supposed to save it for himself later, and he also wasn’t supposed to feed subjects… but Elliot was still human. Humans need food.

Elliot jumped at the sound of the door opening. Mafioso stood there, holding the honey bun on a plate. Hell, he’d even heated it up. What was wrong with him?

He said nothing, putting the plate on the floor and closing the door again. Once he was gone, Elliot slowly stood up to have a look. 

It smelled so good, so warm and sweet. His stomach growled loudly, but he knew he had to be careful. It could have been a trap, after all. But his hunger gave in. He took a big bite, perfectly content to sit on the floor and enjoy the treat. 

Mafioso watched from a distance, smiling to himself before snapping himself out of it.

—

Mafioso jumped awake at the sound of a bell. He was napping at his desk again, well, until now. The bell… someone was calling for him. Elliot?

He stood up quickly, hurrying to Elliot’s cell with an urgency he didn’t want to think too much about. When he got there, he found Elliot sitting on his bed, trembling with tears in his eyes.

He approached the cell, opening the door just a little. “Elliot? What’s going on?”

Elliot sniffled, wiping his eyes. “I-I don’t know… it hurts…”

The sight of him in such pain made Mafioso wince a little. He wanted to help, to make it all go away. When he spoke again, his voice was uncharacteristically soft.

“What hurts?”

“M-my back…”

Mafioso’s eyes widened with realization. Already? He stepped inside, approaching Elliot. “Alright, can you… take your shirt off?”

Elliot hesitated but reluctantly obliged. It was exactly what Mafioso expected—two little nubs forming beneath the skin on his back. Wings… Mafioso remembered when it first happened to him. He remembered how much it hurt.

“Stay here.” He left the cell, rummaging around in his supplies before finding a container of morphine. Good enough. 

“Here, take this.” 

Elliot stared at the pill in his hand. This could literally be anything, he thought. He had to trust Mafioso, which wasn’t easy. After a moment, he swallowed the pill dry, just hoping it wouldn’t kill him.

“Good. Now, try not to touch them, okay? And call for me again when the morphine wears off.”

“ Morphine?! ”

Mafioso was already gone. Elliot tried to look over his shoulder, but could only see a tiny thing in the corner of his eye. 

Morphine… he didn’t know much about it. It was a strong painkiller, wasn’t it? It could be worse… right?

After about half an hour, Elliot realised the pain all throughout his body had practically vanished. He was surprised, but also very pleased. It seemed that trusting Mafioso wasn’t a bad idea, at least not this time. He decided to take the chance to sleep while he could. 

—

Mafioso typed information into his computer, the keyboard filling the office with the sounds of tapping and clicking. Elliot was reacting faster than any others he’d tested on. The worst part is he had no idea why. He hated that. He hated not knowing. What had he done differently…?

He shivered slightly as he felt his wings twitch under his coat. He didn’t like covering them. It was uncomfortable, it felt… wrong. As much as he wanted to give them a good stretch, he knew he couldn’t risk being seen. Not by anyone. 

Not yet. 

Chapter Text

“Mafioso!” Elliot called out as soon as he spotted him. He didn’t exactly like Mafioso, but he liked knowing he wasn’t alone. That was it. That was all he felt. 

“Yours truly,” He smirked, finding himself oddly happy to talk to Elliot again. He loved watching his eyes light up when he realised food was being brought. “Hungry?”

“Yes… but I was ringing all night!” He complained, gesturing to the button beside his bed. Mafioso hadn’t heard it at all… he must have been fast asleep.

“Ah… I apologise.” He said sheepishly, placing the plate beside Elliot on the bed. “Did something happen?”

Elliot nodded. “The… things got bigger. It hurt less, but it still hurt! And you weren’t there!”

Mafioso couldn’t help but feel a little bad. Too late now, he told himself. He watched Elliot devour the breakfast he’d made as he thought of what to say. 

The night before, he decided to take a different approach to this entire situation. Past subjects very much hated being told nothing, so… maybe explaining things would help. After all, Elliot was the calmest of all of them anyway.

“Well, that’s what I’m here to talk about.”

He took a deep breath before lifting his coat, letting it fall to the floor. His long, thin wings shook free, stretching out for the first time in way too long. They looked familiar. Like… Two Time’s. Long, thin, and lined with sharp spikes. Elliot froze in shock.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Mafioso grinned.

“What… how did you…” Elliot trailed off, at a loss for words. Slowly, everything started to make sense in his head. 

“ This is my breakthrough. By enveloping the power of the Spawn, I—no, we can survive anything thrown at us.”

Elliot’s heart sank. Mafioso, of all people… a Spawnist?! And he had done this to himself?

“Then… where’s Two Time?” He asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Oh, they’re working behind the scenes. Where do you think I got this magical little thing?” He took another vial out of his pocket. It seemed to glow faintly in his grasp. “I couldn’t have done it without them.”

“Mafioso…” Elliot murmured, his breaths coming in short gasps. “You… you can’t do this. You can’t keep doing this.” 

“It’s too late.” He chuckled darkly. “Besides, look at your wings. Aren’t they coming in so wonderfully?”

Elliot looked over his shoulder again. He could see the spindly things a little more now. They were thin and black, quivering weakly like a baby bird’s. No spikes had grown just yet. He tried to move them, managing to make them twitch a little. 

“I… guess,” He murmured, trying to come to terms with this revelation. “I-I’m scared…”

“Oh, Elliot…” Mafioso sat down on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on Elliot’s. “Listen… I know it sucks down here. But… maybe I can organise something else for you.”

Elliot’s eyes lit up. His cell down here was horrible, so anything was really an improvement. He nodded, listening intently. 

“I shouldn’t be offering something like this. I need to keep note of anything that happens… which is why I can’t let you leave.” Mafioso paused, sighing heavily. 

“But… you can stay in my office for a bit. It’s not as… unbearably bright.”

Elliot nodded quickly, part of him planning a potential escape while another just wanted a different room. He stood up, following Mafioso out of the cell and up the tall flight of stairs.

Mafioso kept a very close eye on Elliot, not letting him out of his sight. Eventually, he led him into a silent, secluded office. It was heaven compared to downstairs. It was air-conditioned, only illuminated by a lamp on the desk. 

The thought of escaping slowly left Elliot’s mind as he settled in. Mafioso sat at his desk, typing in some professional-looking document. He sat on the floor, trying once again to look over his shoulder at his stubby wings. 

Eventually, Elliot spoke.

“You have a minifridge in your office!”

Mafioso chuckled softly, nodding. He couldn’t help but find himself amused by Elliot’s antics. Most of his subjects either loathed him or feared him. This was… different. Different, but not unwelcome. 

“Yes. You can have a snack, but not too much.”

Elliot didn’t waste any time, prying open the fridge and rummaging around. Eventually, he found a bar of chocolate and ripped it open, nibbling happily.

“You know,” Mafioso began after a few minutes, watching Elliot eat. “I’m not supposed to have favourites.”

Elliot looked up, his cheeks heating up just slightly at the implications. He didn’t want to think about it too much. Instead, he asked a question.

“Are there… other people here?” 

Mafioso’s tail twitched. He shouldn’t say it, but at the same time, he was having a proper conversation with this subject. Perhaps this was the secret to obedience. He decided to bend the truth a little.

“Well… yes. But there haven’t been any in a while. It’s pretty much just you now.”

Elliot nodded slowly, chewing on a piece of chocolate. He’d always had a sweet tooth, and it was easy to win him over with a little treat. Maybe he just wanted to do something normal for once.

“Okay…”

Eventually, it got later and later, and Elliot grew exhausted. He rested his head against the wall, trying not to fall asleep but failing miserably. 

By the time Mafioso noticed the silence, Elliot was fast asleep. He sighed softly, standing up from his desk. He gently scooped him up into his arms, trying not to wake him up. He was surprisingly lightweight.

He carried Elliot down the hall, his gaze lingering on the new wings that had sprouted. It was always a bit magical to see—like witnessing new life. He’d have to get Elliot a shirt with holes in it very soon.

Mafioso stopped at his own room, laying Elliot on the sofa nearby before crawling into bed. He felt oddly comfortable knowing Elliot was safe and in the same room.

Chapter Text

Elliot jolted awake after a strange nightmare he barely remembered. He groaned as he sat up, causing his head to throb with agony. He’d had headaches after long shifts, but this was different. It felt like something was inside, trying to get out. 

He tried to get up, but his head was killing him, and he realised he had no idea where he was. He curled up, clutching his head as tears welled up in his eyes. It was excruciating, and each sniffle and sob only made it worse. 

Eventually, his cries awoke Mafioso. He sat up slowly, clicking on the lamp which felt blinding.

“Elliot?”

Mafioso got up quickly when he saw Elliot’s distress. It made him more concerned than he’d like to admit. He approached carefully, reaching out.

“Elliot? What’s wrong?”

“My… head…” He murmured, looking up to meet Mafioso’s eyes. Tears were streaming down his face, and he was shaking with agony.

Mafioso sat down next to him, trying to gently inspect his head without causing him any extra pain. But as soon as he touched him, Elliot pulled away, grasping at his head.

Suddenly, he let out a blood-curdling scream as the pain became unbearable. Small spikes began to sprout from around his head, trickling blood down his face. He gasped for air, subconsciously grasping Mafioso’s hand so tight it practically cut off circulation. Mafioso said nothing, mentally noting everything that happened.

“Interesting…” He murmured, reaching out to wipe some of Elliot’s blood with his sleeve. “That’s never happened before.”

Elliot whimpered, still trembling with fear and lingering pain. He felt lightheaded, though that could have been for a variety of reasons at that point. 

He reached up to touch one of the spikes that had forced its way out his forehead. They were sharp, almost impossibly so. A mere touch almost sliced his finger open, though that was the least of his worries at the moment.

“Oh, Elliot…” Mafioso reached out, gently stroking his cheek. His voice sounded almost caring. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Mafioso led Elliot back to the lab, his hand resting lightly on his back in an almost protective gesture. Once they were back, Mafioso wasted no time and quickly cleaned up the strange growths on Elliot’s head, simultaneously inspecting them.

There were many sharp spikes that looked as if they had burst out of Elliot’s poor head in a circle. It was similar to… the spawn symbol, even. The thought made his heart sink.

“C-can we… get rid of them?” Elliot asked softly, his voice still weak. Mafioso shook his head.

“No. I need to know more. Besides… it could cause unnecessary damage.” 

Tears welled up in Elliot’s eyes. He was truly nothing but an experiment, a test run for Mafioso. Just something to be thrown away when he was done. The thought made his heart ache for a strange reason.

He didn’t like Mafioso. Not at all. But Elliot only had one person he could talk to, and that one person didn’t really care. It hurt. He couldn’t help but cry softly as the blood was wiped from his face.

Mafioso tried to ignore Elliot’s sobs as he cleaned up his wounds. He wasn’t one to feel much, especially with subjects of his. He’d experienced screaming, crying, begging, fighting. It didn’t affect him. However, this little delivery boy was softening him. Was he becoming weak?

“Quit crying.” He spat, his tone coming out harsher than he intended. 

“S-sorry…” Elliot murmured instinctively, swallowing his tears. He was used to obeying, even if it meant hiding how he felt. 

Mafioso couldn’t help but feel a little bad. He pushed the thought from his mind, focusing on cleaning up the blood on Elliot’s face. He told himself he didn’t care, that he was just doing this to get Elliot to obey. That was all it was.

“Listen…” Mafioso paused, hesitating. He’d never cared for someone like this before. It was weird. He didn’t like it. “You’re doing well.”

Elliot froze. He looked up, meeting Mafioso’s gaze. “...what?”

“I know it hurts.” He continued, giving him a small smile. “But I’ll be here.”

Elliot sat there in silence as his face was all cleaned up. The spikes on his head kind of hurt, but it was far less than what he experienced before. And frankly, Mafioso’s words comforted him. 

“Thank you…” He murmured, a light blush rising to his cheeks. He found himself continuing to speak despite himself. “Can I… sleep in your room again?” 

Mafioso fell silent. Hearing Elliot ask specifically for such a thing… it almost made him happy, just a little. He glanced away, keeping his tone neutral. “Yeah… yeah. Fine. Sure.”

He led Elliot back upstairs in silence. He knew something was up, but he didn’t want to dwell on it. He watched as Elliot crawled back onto the sofa, barely noticing the blood stains that had now soaked into the fabric. That was going to be a pain to clean up…

Once he was certain Elliot was asleep, he returned to his office. If anything took his mind off of life, it was his work. Besides, he had a lot to write about. 

—

Elliot awoke after a few hours. He sat up, realising there were now holes on the sofa. He sighed, realising Mafioso would probably be pissed that his sofa was now ruined. 

“Mafioso?”

He stood up, looking around the room. It was dark, but he could tell he was alone. He eventually found the door, leading to a long hallway. He realised he was finally unsupervised and free for the first time in who knows how long. But he had to be careful.

He slowly tiptoed down the hall, peeking into each room before walking past. He didn’t want to risk being caught. 

Eventually, he found himself back at the entrance to the lab. Something just brought him there. Something that told him there was something he had to find. He hesitated for a while before hurrying downstairs. 

Elliot fumbled around in the darkness before turning on the light. He froze for a second, fearing someone would notice. After realising nobody was there, he continued. He went past the desk Mafioso sat at so many times, past the cell he’d spent his first few days in. Why was he allowed to leave? Wasn’t this clearly such a safety hazard?

His eyes widened as he looked past his own cell to realise there were more cells past his own. He didn’t waste any time, running down and looking in each one of the windows.

The second one was empty, but it looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in far too long. There were stains of what he hoped wasn’t blood splattered on the walls. He brushed it off and continued. 

The third one made Elliot jump. There was someone in there! He rushed forward, staring through the window. A dark figure sat hunched over on the bed, staring at the wall. Their hat seemed oddly familiar.

When they turned around, they seemed just as surprised to see someone other than Mafioso. Both of them were in shocked silence for a moment before Elliot spoke.

“Chance?!”

“Elliot?!”

Chance looked absolutely awful. They looked like they hadn’t slept in days, which wouldn’t be too surprising given the situation. 

“Chance, what are you doing here?!” His hands shook as they approached the window, placing their hands where Elliot’s were. Out of all the things, neither of them had expected to find each other. 

“What are you doing here?!” They repeated, their voice muffled but oh so familiar. 

“H-Hold on!” Elliot looked around, his heart racing so fast he could barely think. 

He tried the door. Locked, of course. After a moment, he grabbed the nearest heavy object. “Step away.” His voice was steadier than he expected.

Chance nodded quickly, knowing exactly what Elliot was going to do. He lifted it up, taking a deep breath before slamming it into the window. 

BANG!

Nothing. The window was stronger than he had anticipated. He tried again, and again. But it wouldn’t break. Panic started to rise in his chest. 

“Fuck…” He mumbled, his arms aching with effort. Tears started to fill his eyes. He wasn’t used to failure, not failure as important as this. “It’s not breaking…” 

“It’s okay.” Chance got close to the window again, giving Elliot a weak smile. “I’m glad I got to see you…” 

“Don’t say that. Please.” Elliot pleaded, hands shaking as he tried to search for something else to break the window. “I’m not leaving you here.” 

He continued to try breaking the window, his attempts growing more desperate each time. Tears streamed down his face as he slowly realised it wasn’t working. A surge of adrenaline rushed through his veins.

“FUCK!” He lunged at the door, tugging on it with all his might. “LET ME IN!”

To his surprise, he felt strong, unreasonably so. He felt the material give way, and he knew it was working. Elliot tore through the door, ripping it off its hinges. He threw it to the side, panting. He felt… different.

When Elliot saw Chance, he paused. They were completely backed up against the wall, eyes wide with fear. That’s when he realised why everything felt odd.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

He turned to look at his reflection in the window. The spikes on his head were significantly larger now, pulsing with a faint power. His eyes were glowing. And his hands… they weren’t hands anymore. They were large, dark claws that twitched with unspent energy. His wings spread out behind his back, lined with spikes. 

Elliot looked back at Chance. They looked… scared. Scared of him.

“Chance…” He tried to step inside, but Chance backed up even further, huddling in the corner of the cell. 

“D-don’t get any closer!” They shouted, voice quivering with fear. The sight broke Elliot’s heart into tiny little pieces. 

Reluctantly, he backed up, letting Chance leave their cell cautiously.

“Chance… I-I don’t know what’s going on…” He stammered, trying to calm them down. “I’m sorry…”

Chance stared at Elliot. It was clear he had been there far longer than they had. They couldn’t even fathom what tests he could have gone through. They stared into his eyes, seeing the friend that was still there, somewhere. 

“...please don’t hurt me.” They murmured, hesitantly stepping forward and reaching out a hand. 

“I would never forgive myself if I did.” He took Chance’s hand in his own, his rough claws a stark contrast to their still-human skin. 

“Elliot…” They hesitated, feeling his large claws. “What did he do to you?” 

“I...” A tear rolled down his cheek as he spoke. “I don’t know. It’s… a long story. But we need to leave.” 

Chance nodded, realising they were still in the lab. They squeezed Elliot’s ‘hand’, turning to look for an exit.