Work Text:
“How is Osiris?” Machiavelli asked him wryly, carrying a stack of papers towards Aten’s office.
John shook his head with a sigh. “Sometimes I think I should’ve just taken my chances like Nicholas.” Being overworked and constantly yelled at, while expected, still was not something he wanted to happen.
Machiavelli half-shrugged as he continued towards the office. “Perhaps. But here we do have a steady paycheck, John. It is more than they had.”
“I know, I know. I only want something better for us.” It was hell, the yelling, the lack of pay, the choiceless choice of staying. Their hell.