Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Day seven. A whole week since his being here. Frypan became his first mentor in the culinary arts, teaching him the basic skills first. It's as if the guy was born, with the ability to cook. His shelves, built by Gally were filled to the brim of various spices and herbs. Some that which, he's never heard of.

"Man. Pretty generous, our Creators." He began. Helping Frypan get his ingredients out. He got a bowl of salt, another of pepper and an herb called basil.

Frypan nodded once. "Comes in handy though. We need so much 'round here."

During his time spent in the kitchen area, Frypan taught him how to cook over an open flame. A tedious task considering his slight fear. "It's weird, I don't remember being around fire before and yet, I'm afraid of it."

"That burn mark below your arm should be, enough proof greenie." Frypan pointed out, watching him like a hawk.

"Huh? I don't…" he began to retort. Until he looks down and sees a tear shaped burn underneath his left arm. He nearly dropped the pan out of his hands, had it not been for Frypan steadying him. "Whoa," he breathed out. "That's…a little freaky. Got any spirits around here?"

Frypan gave a grin. Shaking his head. "Ha, real funny bud. Sure you're alright to cook? Look a little freaked out."

"No, no I'm good."

As they carried on, it's as if lightning struck. His name. After so many forgetful days, the name came to him. Out of the blue. "Elliot." He whispered. Frypan looked wearily his way.

"Uh. Who's that?"

"My name…I remember. I-It's Elliot."

"Elliot…" Frypan repeated it, before nodding. Clapping him once on the shoulder, with a smile. "Hey nice. Glad ya remembered, finally. Started to worry about ya."

"Me to, Fry. Me to."

~xxxxxx~

"Lookin' good in that hair net, greenie." Newt's snickering tone went unnoticed, as he came up next in line.

Elliot shot him a warning look. His lips twitching in a small grin. "Watch it Newt, you know, there's a thing on chef's spitting in people's food…"

He slapped a thing of casserole on Newt's tray. Even Edgar managed a light grin, at Newt's appalled face when it splashed some against his left cheek. "And. I'll have it be known, I remembered my name…it's Elliot."

"Elliot." Newt spoke. Nodding once. "Nice, good that. Hey, wanna sit with Eddie and I today?" He pointed to the shy boy beside him.

"If that's alright." Elliot responded. Smiling some, when Edgar gave the okay signal.

The chefs were always last to go in. He didn't wish to have meat on his plate. Not after he helped The Slicers yesterday. Whenever he closed his eyes, it's as if he could still see that poor pig squirming around, with two boys having to hold it down.

"Not bad Eli," Minho complimented. Taking a mouthful of casserole. He and the Runners got first dibs, before anyone else. "This meat's awesome."

"Thank Frypan for that. I'm not a fan of it."

Newt raised a brow. His head tilted to one side, just now taking notice Elliot only ate his casserole dish. "Are you one of 'em…oh bloody hell. Can't think, of the word." His eyebrows furrowed in thought. As if trying to communicate with his brain.

Edgar quickly wrote something down. Sliding it towards him. "I think you mean vegetarian, what Elliot is. They don't care for anything that's meat or in a meat category."

"Shuck. How do you LIVE? Meat's kinda important y'know." Minho stated.

Elliot shrugged one shoulder. Unable to think, how robotic Edgar's writing had looked. "I just don't like it. It feels wrong…."

Minho and Newt looked at each-other. Then back at Elliot. "You are one strange, shank."

~xxxxxx~

He was at it with The Builders again, the next day. Gally needed an extra pair of hands, after some from his crew were in The Med-Jacks tent healing from multiple injuries. To make it worse, Gally still seemed upset over that whole Bonfire incident.

Beaten by an unknown. With a simple head-butt.

That had to have damaged his ego, to some extent one would think.

A mechanical whirring startled him. He could see a strange, black insect hovering above his head. And he promptly lets out a single gasp, when it gets inches away from his hair. "Get off, get off you stupid-oh crap." He cursed. It's on his neck. Actually on his neck, the back of it. He tries to smack at it, but it seems glued to his skin.

His hands flailed about, trying to grab it. Wincing upon that sensation, of cold…metal? Against him.

"For all that's…here, here. Dammit Greenie, stay put!" Gally bit out. He placed one hand on Elliot's shoulder firm and the other, shooing the insect off of him.

He's close to hyperventilating, even after the bug was gone. Nervous blue and green eyes, shift upward as it flies off in a perfect line towards The Maze. "…Shuck," he breathed out. "What was THAT?"

Gally snorted. Like it's a chore to explain it, to him. "Beetle Blades is what they are. We came up with a theory, that they use 'em for spying on us."

"Spying…lovely. Just what else, we need around this crazy place." Elliot sighed. Rubbing his neck.

"Yeah. Alright, get back to work. We don't have all day. It's gone now…." He could see Elliot was still trembling, the way he tried picking up that hammer again. For once Gally actually attempts, to feign sympathy. "Doin' alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Didn't get near my face at least."

There's no laughter from Gally. Their work continued in silence.