Chapter Text
"I love you."
The words were cold as they left the other’s lips, and he kissed 007n7’s fingers with gloved hands. His touch was gentle and careful, as if 007n7 were a delicate thing that could shatter at any moment. But why did it hurt? Why couldn’t he say it back? Every promise the blonde made felt so cold… and meaningless.
"I…"
007n7 paused, staring into those cold, calculating blue eyes that watched him like a predator waiting for its prey to fall into a trap. The other’s grip on his waist tightened just slightly, fabric crinkling under his fingers.
"I love y—"
RRRIIIING
007n7 shot up awake. His alarm clock blared and shook so hard on the bedside table that it tumbled to the floor, switching off on impact.
He groaned, frustrated—his heart still hammering against his ribs from the dream that had been cut short. Pushing the feeling aside, he blinked away drowsiness and stood with a tired grunt.
"What the fuck was that…"
He sighed, his mind drifting back to the vision. Who was that person? The only blonde he knew was Elliot—but Elliot was short, a pizza boy who’d never wear fancy clothes, let alone a crown. Why would someone say such intimate things to him of all people?
"For Telamon’s sake, why is it so cold?" He shivered as icy wind streamed through his open window. Slamming it shut and drawing the curtains for privacy, he stood in silence for a moment, lost in thought, then finally changed out of his pajamas.
No time to linger—he had to get ready for his new job at the casino, where Noli’s friend Chance had hired him on the spot, no resume needed.
"Ayeeee – make sure you actually look presentable, yeah? I’m gonna check on the kid." Noli popped his head through the door without warning, then vanished just as quickly after speaking.
"For fucks sake- a warning would’ve been nice!" 007n7 yelled after him, but his complaint went unanswered. His best friend was already on his way to see if the infant they’d taken in was awake.
Yes, 007n7 had adopted a child. He knew he could barely afford it, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the baby at an orphanage—that would have been far worse. Besides, he and Noli had finished college together; he could handle caring for himself and a little one. After plenty of lessons, advice from other parents near their home and some practice, he was finally getting the hang of it.
The ex-hacker stared at himself in the mirror, wearing his waiter uniform. His hair was combed back and styled with gel, his horns and tail looked sleek and less jagged and he’d traded his usual grunge look for clean, formal attire: a button-up shirt, black waistcoat, apron over sleek black pants, and polished black shoes.
For once in his life, he didn’t look like he was struggling to get by—he seemed like someone who could support his family comfortably on his salary alone, or some wealthy guy who buys an expensive race car for funsies and public rep.
"Welp, this is my life now, might as well check on the kid before leaving, that's what dads do- I think—."
He sighed softly, grabbed his shoulder bag, and headed straight to the nursery where his son and best friend were. "Is he awake?" he asked, peering over Noli’s shoulder as his friend fed little c00lkidd in his arms.
"Damn right he is—such an energetic little goober! I’ve got a shift tonight, your duty ends at 8 PM, right?" Noli cooed at the baby, who babbled happily and reached tiny hands toward the air, he didn't even bother looking back at 007n7 as if completely focused on the cute infant in his arms.
"Yep, I’ll be home before 8." 007n7 gave a thumbs-up to his best friend—who’d somehow become his co-parent after the baby had been left on their doorstep out of nowhere.
"Alright then, settled. Go on now, I’ve got him covered, I promise." Noli laughed, trying to ease the anxiety that was clear on 007n7’s face.
"Call me if anything happens? Please???" 007n7 gruffly whined, his concern plain as he hesitated to leave. Noli just pushed him toward the door, still holding the baby carefully.
"I promise! Now go! You wanna make a good first impression, yeah?" With a playful kick that almost sent 007n7 stumbling onto the pavement, Noli practically shoved him out. "Oops." He chuckled mischievously, not really sorry for the almost accident that happened because of him.
007n7 caught himself just in time and didn’t bother scolding him, he had more important things to worry about. He rushed to the bus stop, checking his phone, 40 minutes until his shift started. Plenty of time to spare and time to brace himself for the new job.
He sat on the bus stop bench, lifting his leg over the other, pulling out his phone and a small notepad from his pocket. "Wow… Who knew I'd be like this, I always thought I was gonna be some famous hacker.." 007n7 sighed deeply to himself.
He’d caught himself wondering more than once why he’d chosen to become a father to a child who wasn’t biologically his.
The thought would creep in, heavy and sharp, but he’d learned to push it away—there was no use dwelling on decisions made long ago. Now, all that mattered was shouldering the weight of what he’d done, taking care of the life that depended on him.
His pen moved deliberately across the notepad, each stroke careful and measured. Line by line, he mapped out the bills for the coming months: rent, water, electricity, and then the long list of things the baby would need. He wrote down prices he’d researched, cross-referencing numbers with what he’d seen in stores, muttering calculations under his breath.
He’d never focused this hard even during his college finals—his finger tapped steadily against his phone screen as he pulled up price comparisons, scrolling through listings with deliberate precision.
He was so wrapped up in his work that he didn’t notice the bench dip beside him, or the familiar sound of footsteps on concrete. It wasn’t until a voice cut through his concentration that he jolted.
“You should get the 3n1 boxes of milk formula if you really wanna save money, 7n7.”
The words made him flinch, his hand jerking as he clutched his notepad. It teetered at the edge of his lap, nearly tumbling to the ground before he caught it with a fumbling grasp. His heart hammered against his ribs as he whipped his head to the side, shoulders tensed and eyes wide with alarm.
Then he saw the blonde hair, the white and red uniform he’d recognize anywhere—and slowly, the tight knot in his chest loosened.
“Ah… Elliot,” he breathed, forcing an awkward smile as he tucked the notepad safely back into his bag.
Elliot beamed, their blue eyes as bright as he remembered. “You got hired by someone, I'm assuming?” they asked, tilting their head to glance at the now-hidden pages and their formal waiter attire.
“Yep—” he started, letting out a long sigh as their tail curled anxiously behind him before pausing, his gaze shifting back to them. “Wait a second… what are you doing at the bus stop? I thought you always got picked up.”
Elliot let out a soft chuckle, leaning back against the bench’s cool hardwood surface. They closed their eyes, but the smile never left their face. “Yeah, usually. But Dad woke up late this morning, running behind as always.”
After a moment, they cracked one eye open to look at him, taking in the tired set of his shoulders and the way the tip of 007n7's tail tapped softly on the bench's seat. “You know,” they said gently, “you could come along for a free ride if you want. It’d save you the bus fare, at least.”
The offer made him jump slightly, his eyes wide with surprise. He blinked slowly, then stammered out his response, his voice tight with uncertainty, his tail freezing mid sway like a frozen line, it really gave out the emotions that his face didn't express.
“I—I mean… are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother to you and your family… especially after everything I did back then.” He trailed off, thinking of his past antics and acts of terrorism years ago, just for the fun of it.
Elliot’s smile didn’t waver, if anything, it softened, their head tilting a little more as they opened both eyes fully. “Bother us? 7n7, come on now.” They shifted closer on the bench, their voice warm and steady.
“That was a long time ago. And you know Dad—he’s already forgiven you. Hell, he still talks about how you helped fix the wiring and the internet online stuff when you suddenly decided to help with fixing up the place.”
He stared at Elliotq, mouth slightly agape. “He… he does?”
“All the time,” Elliot laughed, nudging his arm lightly. “Says you’ve got a gift for figuring things out—something he wishes he had when it comes to all that tech stuff." The blonde beamed, their kind and blue eyes meeting 007n7's tired and hazel ones.
"I guess… it would be nice."
The words came out soft, followed by a long sigh that seemed to carry the weight of everything sitting heavy on his shoulders.
A small smile finally touched his lips, even just the thought of saving on bus fare felt like a tiny win, one more dollar he could put toward the things the baby would need.
He’d been planning every detail with rigid care, mapping out every expense as if one wrong number could unravel everything. He knew it might sound impossible, trying to control every little thing, but he couldn’t afford to take chances.
There was already so much pressing down on him, so many responsibilities he’d chosen to carry. The last thing he wanted was for the child in his care to grow up like… like he had.
He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the memory settle gently before pushing it away. He’d spent too many years feeling the way he did back then—alone, unseen, like he didn’t matter. He wouldn’t let that infant go through anything close to it. It wouldn’t be easy, he knew that well. But he had to try.
Right?
"Thank you." He muttered softly directed towards Elliot who was still relaxed beside him, Elliot didn't give another response, just a small hum of acknowledgement and the smile that never left their lips.
_____________________________________________
The heavy metal door of the casino’s back entrance loomed before him, cold under his palm as he pressed his hand against it. 007n7 drew in a slow breath, feeling the air catch in his throat—fear coiled tight in his gut, sharp and familiar. He held it there for a moment, then let it out in a steady stream, letting the weight of it settle deep in his chest where it belonged.
'This isn’t who I am anymore, he told himself, straightening his shoulders. But they don’t need to know that. Not right now.'
He let his old mask slide into place—easy, practiced, like pulling on a coat he’d worn for years. His features hardened into a set of unwavering confidence, his lips curving into the sharp, smooth smile he’d perfected back when he lived for chaos. With one last quiet nod to himself, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The kitchen hit him first, warm air thick with the scent of butter, garlic, and fresh dough from the late-night snack service.
Faces he recognized turned his way, and he offered each one a nod or a quick word, moving through the narrow aisles between stainless steel counters without so much as brushing against a tray or a worker in motion. No one stopped him; no one questioned why he was there. It felt almost too easy, and he had to fight the urge to glance over his shoulder.
'Focus. Just get to the lounge, stow your bag, don't fuck it up and just get through the shift swiftly. Every dollar counts.'
He made his way down the hallway to the workers’ lounge, the fluorescent lights humming overhead casting pale squares on the linoleum floor. As he reached for his locker, a voice cut through the quiet.
“Oh! 007n7! You’re early, aye?”
His manager stood by the coffee machine, a wide, genuine smile spreading across his face. 007n7 felt the edges of his practiced grin soften just a touch—this man had never done him wrong, never asked questions about his past. He forced his posture to stay relaxed, his tone even and formal.
“Of course, sir.”
What else does he say? Small talk was never his strong suit. Back then, he'd just crack a joke or cause a minor distraction. Now he doesn't know how to talk to people who only see the person he used to pretend to be.
He kept his gaze steady, his hands already moving to twist the combination lock on his locker, grateful for something to do with them.
His mouth moved on its own, words coming out smooth and practiced even as his mind drifted elsewhere. Short, pleasant responses fell from his lips, each one carefully measured just right.
He nodded at the right moments, asked small questions when he could tell the manager expected them, his body moving through the rhythm of conversation like he was following a script he’d memorized long ago.
It felt like walking a tightrope, every word a careful step to keep from tipping too far one way or the other. He kept his hands still at his sides, fighting the urge to fidget, until finally the manager patted him on the shoulder with a warm smile and turned toward their office down the hall.
The moment the footsteps faded away, 007n7’s shoulders sagged. He let out a long, slow breath that seemed to drain right out of him — each second of it stretching as he released the tension he’d been holding in his chest. His heart was hammering against his ribs, fast and hard enough that he could feel it in his throat, in the tips of his fingers.
He pressed his palms flat against the cool metal of the lockers behind him, leaning his weight against them for support. For just a moment—one single, quiet moment—he let his eyes fall closed and let himself feel it all.
The anxiety coiling in his stomach, the tightness in his shoulders, the way his breath still hitched just a little when he thought about being in that room a second longer.
Then he straightened up, drawing in a new breath and letting it out slowly until his pulse began to steady. He ran a hand over his hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and set his jaw.
There was work to do, money to earn. He couldn’t afford to stay here, not when every minute on the clock. He walked out of the lounge, still with the mask on his face, unwavering.
Everything will be just fine.