Chapter Text
During the Apex Games' downtime, Luc and his team of electricians and engineers repaired anything damaged during combat. The Legends were resourceful as always, willing to use anything to achieve victory, including their surroundings. Today, a report came in that 'Octane' broke light 32B inside of Hydro Dam. It was a fantastic money shot. Octane punched the light through, grabbed shards of glass with his bare hands, and stabbed his opponent's neck. Blood splattered all over Octane, who pulled out his phone to take a selfie. Octane was always boastful about his victories, winking into the camera as he mocked his victim.
The cleaning crew scrubbed it all away. Luc tried not to think of the corpse that had been there hours before as he walked down the hallway. He decided to repair this light himself, allowing the other electrician to go home early.
Hydro Dam is a looming building in the low light, turned orange by the evening rays. Luc keeps the flyers outside in his mind when he enters, heading to the breaker box and flipping one of the switches. Sunset peeks through the open doors as the lone engineer sets down his toolbox and turns on his headlamp. Luc stands on his step stool, screws in his teeth, cursing in French, attempting to pull the light fixture. Octane banged it up pretty bad. He would have to replace the entire housing-
Luc jumps at a thud, attentive to the quiet plops in the night. Footsteps? No, it couldn't be. He spits the screws into his hand, placing them in a magnetic bowl on his stool with a tik-tack. "Hello?" he cautiously called into the void, looking down the hallway. Distant smells of coffee waft into his nose. An occasional cough reaches his ears. He furrows his eyebrows, trying to devise a source. No one was supposed to be here.
Maybe he should hurry. Why would someone be down here? Who would come down here? Luc pulls the fixture out, beginning to cut wires from the plastic casing and-
"Mr. Paquette."
Luc nearly jumps out of his skin, kicking back and stumbling from his stool. He falls rear-first onto the tile below. Luc grimaces in pain. His eyes tilt upward, to the towering figure looming at the end of the hallway. He hitches a breath. His hands find the ladder, giving him support as the other takes gradual steps towards him. The figure holds out a hand, as if to offer help, but hesitates when the engineer sits up. He's fine, on his ass and cornered by this l' homme, but fine. With a skyward point of his head, his light peels away the darkness to reveal the Legend.
Oh, he knows precisely who this is. "Doctor-" the predator clears his throat, and Luc's mouth snaps shut. Caustic coughs, looks down at him, and snorts. Goosebumps rise on Luc's skin.
Luc knows the agonizing wake of slaughter Caustic is capable of. Caution is critical- his fellow scientist would kill him without a hint of shame. Luc tries to reassure himself, that, No, I'm too vital to the Games. If Caustic kills me, Caustic disappears. The Legend's method of murder is one of meticulous passion. Is this what it feels like to be a future victim of Caustic's? How Caustic's gaze pins him in place like a butterfly to a board, mulling over the most effective way to watch him die. Luc takes this moment to note how Caustic's eyes glow in the darkness.
He fears to speak. Caustic continues to stare. Perhaps he's just another lab rat to the scientist, one member of a faceless mass to be experimented upon. Lab rats are caged and disposable, with no meaning to their life except for their value to science. Luc hopes he is the butterfly. Insects such as them are unique and colorful, beloved, and sought after. They hold value in both life and death for art and science alike.
At least, butterflies are held delicately after their death.
Which is he to Caustic?
The other tilts his head at him. Luc thinks he's raising an eyebrow but is obscured by the mask. "You are him, correct? I must say, marvelous work with the forcefield. It's a technical masterpiece."
"Him is me. Er, wait- I- yes, I'm Luc. You're very... uh, big- I mean- you're- Thank you, is what I mean to say," Luc pulls himself up to stand, becoming acutely aware of his own size. A sense of dread washes over as he recognizes his weakness, using the step ladder as a crutch. He watches the Legend carefully. They are a deer and a wolf in the brief pause before the chase. The question is still there- why is Caustic here? Didn't he go home at the end of the day like everyone else?
Green eyes narrow at him. Caustic has mentally evaluated him and has yet to deem if the engineer should live or die. People Caustic deemed as rats fell victim to his slaughter: no pity, no remorse, and no hesitations. Caustic would pin a poor, unsuspecting fool with his boot to their neck. He would pose for the camera, give one of his many declarations of victory, "You and I are not equals. Remember this."
How much is for the cameras, and how much was true?
Caustic's still in costume, too. Blackheart is one of the audience's favorites. It was from one of the Legend's copycat criminals - some poor sap who thought he could break a colleague out of prison and pin it on Caustic. Luc cannot deny the presence the get-up has.
Luc continues to shake, heart accelerating as Caustic picks him apart. He meets the scientist's gaze for a moment but quickly looks away as Blackheart continues to mentally unravel him, layer by layer. What does the Legend see? Butterfly or Lab Rat? His gaze travels to the spiked boots as Caustic's brain is, undoubtedly, mentally reconstructing his organs and detaching his spine.
He tries to comfort his thoughts. He must calm his nerves. What was good about Caustic? Why is Caustic here? Eyes travel to the Nox grenade on his chest. Nox gas ate through flesh and metal alike, and as long as it continued to do so, Luc had a job. He thinks of Natalie.
He must survive this encounter. He couldn't abandon his daughter.
Luc is brought back to reality when the Legend clears his throat. Caustic squats, picking up the plastic housing and holding it out to him. "Oh, uh- thank you," he stammers, planting a foot back onto the step ladder. Maybe if he finishes this, he can get out of here faster. Get out of this hallway and release the breath he's holding in. Luc picks up his wire cutters, beginning to strip the old wires. He just needs to focus on this... ignore the hulking figure mere feet away. "Well, Doctor, how does an Apex Legend find himself in the arena in the off-hours?"
Caustic takes another step closer. Iron and copper and coffee waft in his nose. He glances down- some fool's blood is still on Caustic's gloves. He notices the imperfect nature of Caustic's collar and pants. It's from people pulling on his clothes and groveling at his feet in the moments before their demise. It's… classic. Caustic prefers the slow death. Luc tried to not think about it too much. He played an equally significant role in the Outland's legalized bloodbath. Luc does not deserve to judge. Every death in the arena is his fault, by extension. He tries to comfort the thought with the idea of Natalie's happiness again, of her future. She is worth it.
He's taken two steps up the ladder. Even at this height, Caustic is eye level to Luc's chest. That fact alone makes him aware of his size.
"I left some of my notes here and came back to get them," Caustic pats a pocket on his chest. That… sounds about right. Caustic was always tedious about his notes, wasn't he? Luc shifts uncomfortably as the golden mask bares into his back. The engineer begins to loop the copper wire around the housing's screws to make connections. His hands are shaking. The hair on his neck stands.
There's a pregnant, awkward pause before Caustic coughs roughly behind him, "How does one come into this line of work?"
Luc tries to laugh, calm his nerves, "maybe I should ask you the same, Doctor." Maybe Caustic isn't so bad? He seemed kind enough to converse with.
"I think that's my business, Mr. Paquette," Caustic leers- Luc can't see it, but he knows the scientist's face has twisted into a frown. Luc feels his skin crawl at the reaction. If he angered Caustic, would the Legend attack him? Choke him out and leave him to be found the next morning?
Maybe he's asked the wrong question. Caustic's gaze is dissecting his skin, it presses a scalpel to his spine and drags down. "Well," Luc coughs, "I graduated from a university off-world, and moved here with my daughter when I was hired by the Syndicate. They had me design the forcefield, you know how it goes." Why is this happening? Why does Caustic bother to converse with him?
Caustic leans against the wall behind him, humming, "Your daughter?"
"Oui," Luc smiles a little, thinking of Natalie's face. "She's brilliant, the light of my life."
"Must be nice," Caustic's tone is cold and curt, and he's not sure what to interpret from that. Was it supposed to be… acknowledgment? What? "Do you raise her by yourself, or?" Caustic asks.
He pauses at the question, "Yes… I'm a widower." Luc takes in a breath, thinking of his long-dead partner. His wife was a sweetheart to the end, and he couldn't bring himself to get with another after her passing.
Caustic is silent for a moment, then utters a small, "My apologies. I shouldn't have asked."
"Oh, Non, do not fret," he tries to smile, then returns to the light. They converse for a little while longer, about Natalie, and about Octane breaking the light. Luc finally finishes, pushing the bulb into place. He steps down the ladder, returning to the box. Luc reaches for the breaker, flipping it across, then turning the switch for the light.
"She has no mother or secondary father?" Caustic asks as the light flickers to life. His arms are crossed, head tilted at Luc, studying him like an elegant bird.
The question doesn't process in his head. He's too focused on getting out of here, stepping from the stool and standing- oh. Caustic is standing over him, and Luc suddenly finds himself eye level with the chemist's chest. One of his arms raises to touch the opposite wall.
Okay. He's fine. Caustic won't kill him.
"Oh-" Caustic is asking about his relationships. Why? "Well," He looks off to the side, averting his gaze from the other. "I don't really… Non," His mind wanders, thinking back to his last few bates. "I tried dating for a while. Nothing stuck. I'm too busy, anyways." Luc waves a hand dismissively as he speaks.
The engineer bends over, picking up his toolbox. "Oh, Doctor, if uhm, you don't mind," he stares up at Caustic. The Legend stares daggers into him. Luc is stupid. He fell for it, he got too comfortable. He's still cornered. The wolf is waiting to give chase, and Luc doesn't have a chance. Caustic's frame nearly fills the entire hallway. He's huge. Caustic could crush him right now in all that heavy gear and wouldn't even break a sweat.
He takes in a breath. Luc is reminded of his racing heart. He clears his throat, "If you don't mind, Doctor, I would like to keep working. Ha- so many lights to fix, so little time."
Caustic stares at him, then side steps, puts his back to the wall and allows him to pass. He holds his toolbox to his chest, green eyes following him the whole way, peeling away his skin until he turns the corner to scurry away to another section of Hydro Dam.