Chapter Text
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"Do you remember anything?"
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Sebastian rummages through the drawers of a cluttered desk, grumbling under his breath as his injured third arm deftly snatched a battered SPR-INT to tuck into a pouch on his serpentine tail.
Damn thing still stung, his regeneration was sluggish this week—definitely not the best time to be scavenging, but he'd rather get these supplies than picking them off Expendable corpses. Again.
"Kid, you find anything worth selling?" He called, voice rough but carrying that edge of familiarity he'd started to use with her.
. . .
No response.
He paused, claws still on the desk.
The silence from the side-room where he'd sent her to poke around in was too heavy. His eyes narrowed, glowing faintly as he listened.
. . .
Nothing?
The fins on the sides of his head flicked minutely.
Nothing. Not a shuffle, not a peep.
"Kid?" His tone sharpened, a low hiss creeping in. He slithered toward the doorway, his massive frame bending awkwardly to fit through the narrow passage, one claw gripping the frame for balance.
"What'd I tell you about keeping quiet on me? You know you're not—"
His words cut off as his gaze locked onto her, the words dying and tasting like bile.
She's frozen near the center of the room, dwarfed by the grim scene. In her arms, that sea bunny she's been carrying around with her squirms, letting out a soft chirp as it nuzzled her chin.
She doesn't react.
Because hanging from the ceiling, swaying gently in a crude noose of tangled cables, was a body.
The Urbanshade Logo stood out starkly on the tattered uniform, a vulgar brand against the lifeless form. And the rest is a sight that Sebastian knows is going to be seared into her head for the rest of her life.
He's seen plenty of bodies down here, some by his own hand—Urbanshade's experiments and Expendables don't exactly have a long shelf life, but this is different.
"Kid," he says, voice low but firm, trying to cut through the fog of her shock. His third arm twitches, wanting to reach out, but he hesitates. He's not exactly the comforting type. Never was. "Hey. Look at me."
The noose creaks, the sound slicing through the silence.
Sebastian slithers closer, casting a shadow over her as his claws flex.
"Kid," he tries again, softer this time, though his gravelly tone still carries an edge. "You don't need to keep looking at it, look at— Look. At. Me."
Her head twitches slightly, like she's hearing him but can't quite pull herself out of the moment.
Sebastian shifts so he's in front of her, lowering himself to her level as much as he can, his serpentine body coiling slightly to block her view of the body. His glowing eyes meet hers, sharp but not unkind.
"Don't go comatose on me now."
The sea bunny wriggles free, plopping onto the floor with a soft squish. It scuttles towards Sebastian, nudging his tail. He ignores it.
"Hey, talk to me. Say something."
Her lips part, but no sound comes out at first. Her eyes are still wide, glassy, reflecting the faint light of his eyes. Finally, her voice comes, small and shaky.
"Am I gonna end up like that?"
. . .
Sebastian deflated a little. Why'd she have to go on and ask him something like that?
For a second, he's tempted to snap something sharp to shake her out of it.
But she's twelve, and those glassy eyes are boring into him like he's supposed to have all the answers.
"What? Like that?" he says, jerking a thumb over his shoulder and towards the body without looking at it. His voice is rough, carrying that usual bite, but he keeps it steady, almost casual. "Kid, you'd sooner die from anything else than putting cables around your neck."
. . .
Well, that didn't help if the way her eyes unfocus more is anything to go by.
He sighs, and pretends not to see the way her hand holds onto one of his fingers.
"Besides, you've got me babysitting you, don't you? I don't haul around dead weight."
He shoots the sea bunny a glare when it nudges his scales again, flicking it gently away with the tip of his tail. "At least, not entirely," he mutters under his breath, then turns back to the girl.
"Look," he says slowly, leaning in just enough that his voice doesn't have to carry far. "People come down here, they make dumb choices, and they don't go back up. That's the deal. But you?" He jabs a claw in her direction, not quite pointing but close enough to make a point.
"You're still kicking. Means you're smarter..." He pauses before correcting himself because she was not smart at all. "...luckier than most of the idiots Urbanshade sends down here. Keep it that way, and you won't be decorating the ceiling anytime soon."
Her eyes squint at him with a frown, like his insult didn't go unnoticed. But that's good. Means she's here.
His eyes flick to the body again, just for a second, and his lip curls slightly. "You wouldn't make a prettier sight up there anyway." He flashes a quick, toothy grin, but it's more sardonic than reassuring.
He knows he's not good at this. Comforting, god forbid coddling, whatever you call it. But he's trying to pull her back without lying to her face.
The Hadal Blacksite isn't a playground, and he knows that she's not dumb enough to believe it is.
Her hands tremble, but she nods, just barely. The sea bunny chirps again, crawling back towards her while on his tail. Sebastian exhales through his nose, a low rumble in his chest.
"C'mon," he says, straightening up a bit, his third arm gesturing toward the door. "Grab your little friend. We're going back." His third arm reaches down, scooping up the sea bunny and holding it out to her. "Don't go quiet on me again, alright?" His voice is rough, strained. "Go wait outside."
As she takes the sea bunny and heads out, he slithers back to the body, keeping her in his peripheral vision before he can't see her anymore. His eyes scan the body over briefly.
He's half-tempted to cut it down, but there's no point. Not like anyone's coming to claim it.
Instead, he reaches for the walkie-talkie clipped to his belt, his claws snatching it up with a practiced flick. He pressed the button, static crackling to life as he brings it to his mouth.
"Painter," he growls, voice low and edged with venom he can't completely hide. "You wanna explain why I'm finding surprises in a side-room? Kid just stumbled on an Expendable playing chandelier—didn't think to give me a heads-up?"
Painter's voice cuts through, high-pitched and flustered, with that glitchy edge that always makes it sound like he's one bad connection away from frying himself.
"Hey—uh, whoa, hold on, Sebastian! What're you even talking about?" The AI's tone is defensive, almost whiny. "I can't see everything down here, you know! Some rooms don't have cameras, and NAVI's got me locked out of half the systems anyway!"
Sebastian exhales sharply, the sound halfway between a hiss and a groan, his tail twitching in irritation.
"You at least working on something useful?" He mutters, voice dripping with annoyance as he leans back, one claw scratching at the scales along his neck.
"Of course! I, uh... I made a painting if you wanna see it later?"
Sebastian's eyes roll so hard they might as well pop out of his skull. A painting? Really?
That's so... Painter.
He pinches where the bridge of his nose would be with a claw, the walkie crackling faintly as Painter's voice chirps through, oblivious to the sheer absurdity of the timing.
"Sebastian?"
"A painting," Sebastian growls, voice resigned with exasperation. "Real useful, Picasso." He mutters into the walkie, his voice thick with sarcasm but tinged with a begrudging fondness he can't shake. "What's- What'd you draw this time? Another landscape? Or you just doodling me looking pissed off again?"
Painter's voice crackles back, indignant but with that familiar spark of enthusiasm. "Hey, how'd you know!"
He turns the walkie off after that, because his eyes really might roll out of his head.