Chapter Text
He sat up before the clock finished it’s second chime and stood to walk to it.
“Greyson?” Redd entered the room and Grey winced, “Are you alright? I heard something.”
“It’s fine,” he turned and stepped past Redd, heading through the door to the office. He listened to Redd’s footsteps as he was followed, and turned suddenly to catch his startled expression. He blinked at Grey before his face twisted into more familiar concern, “Grey, what’s going on?”
“We’re about to go into the theatre and find the Moloch Egg,” he shook his head as Redd opened his mouth. “It’s going to be in a gold cage, I’m going to touch it and get stuck to it. Then the cage will be locked, electrified, and we’re-” his voice faltered and he could barely bring his gaze up from where it’d fallen on Redd’s cravat, “Then we’ll die. I’ll watch you die.”
“Greyson, you’re worrying me,” he looked more frightened than worried, but no recognition settled on his face. He didn’t know, it wasn’t some crazy scheme, he should’ve been certain after Redd died the third time. His breath caught and Redd’s expression only got more terrified, “Are you sure you didn’t dream it? Had a drink and heard a story? Maybe-”
“Redd, it’s there. It’s in there.”
Redd stopped, his hands hovering in an aborted gesture Grey could only guess had been to comfort him. He dropped them and nodded, “Alright. Okay. I’ll- Let’s check? Maybe it was just a bad meal, or a dream, or… something.”
Grey watched him slowly and hesitantly turn away, walking out of the office, through the waiting area, and into the theatre. He followed just behind him and couldn’t build the energy to react to the egg even if Redd stilled ahead of him. His shoulders had stiffened and his spine gone straight, more so when Grey stepped up beside him, and only looked away from the egg, the cage, the spikes and pylons , to stare at Greyson.
He watched Redd think, trying to think of words, before he spoke, “How- Did you-” he laughed uneasily, “Doing reconnaissance without me?”
The light of the theatre and the sight of the trap strangled him, his voice reduced to a near-whisper, “You died, Redd.”
Redd made an odd noise in his throat and reached for his mask, undoing the fabric tie and letting it fall away from his face. It was worse like this, staring at the worry etched into his face and knowing he’d see more if the same thing happened, if he touched that bloody egg and Redd tried to save him. The honest concern was breaking the ounce of control he had over not running from this room, asking Redd to smash the egg, leaving the mansion altogether.
“It was a dream. Grey, it was a dream,” Redd broke the distance between them to grab his shoulder, his hand warm and comforting in contrast to the terror around him, “I’m here, whole and together and- Ha. Last time I checked the dead couldn’t talk.” His laugh was forced, his smile the same, “I can prove it, okay? Take a deep breath, I’ll show you, okay?”
He nodded slowly, mind trying to turn through what exactly Redd meant. It couldn’t be a scheme, he’d already proven it wasn’t. How could Redd prove it was a nightmare? All he knew about those was you woke up before you died, and he’d already done that three times over. Nothing else made sense, surely. He looked up to tell Redd as much and only saw empty space. He turned frantically, looking for Redd, before hearing a familiar click from up on the stage. He found Redd, staring in confusion and slowly dawning horror at his restrained hands.
Greyson stood in place, frozen until a member of staff rushed through the door to the side and slammed the cage closed. He ran up as they left the stage, heart hammering and yelling after the masked- masked murderer .
“GREY!” He spun around back to Redd, face collapsing at his expression, “My hands are trapped!”
“Break the egg!” he shuffled around the cage to stand where Redd could see him clearly.
“But- Grey this is-”
“It doesn’t matter!” Redd could get out, he had to, the only thing stopping him last time was the electricity and this time he was inside . He could snap those bands like he could tear the cage open, surely, “Break it! Then- Then see there? The trapdoor! Go through that!”
Redd looked over and his face hardened, with a nod to Grey he strained before snapping the band away from his right wrist. With his free hand he pulled the other loose, cracking the egg as he did, and hurried over to the trapdoor on the floor. Grey watched him stare at the lock, his hands grabbing at it before freezing, and felt his own blood freeze as Redd looked up at him. “Redd,” his voice was just audible over the rising music, fragile around the edges, “Redd, please.”
“It’s a mechanism, for the door,” Redd shifted the lock in his hands, “I- Grey.”
“It’s nothing, it’s fine. Take my picks,” he shifted through his clothes for his set, throwing them in as soon as his fingers brushed against them. Redd caught them easily but made no move to use them, only grasping at them tightly and keeping them near his chest. Grey felt like yelling, running off after that bastard and shoving them in this horrible cage, but he couldn’t leave Redd with the music hitting its peak and the announcer calling through the intercom. He looked small on the floor with his hand tight around a set of picks that looked comically tiny in his hold, and Grey wondered why he wasn’t back in front of that clock already because he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel his heartbeat-
“Greyson,” Redd was still watching him, his voice as quiet as Grey’s had been before, “You need to get out, the electricity-”
“NO! I am not leaving you! I couldn’t get out but you can!” He heard the spikes now, crawling down closer and closer, “Just- Just-!”
His mask, he could get his mask off and wake up. He fumbled to reach for the latch as Redd’s resignation started crumbling into panic and the music built up again. His fingers felt clumsy and broken as he struggled to get a hold of it and Redd’s breathing grew louder than the creaking machinery.
“Grey, GREYSON,” he managed to get a hold of his mask, latch in hand, and began tugging on it.
“GREYSON, I-” He could hear the ease in the machinery’s motion, right before it fell, and wrenched his mask off.
-----
He gasped as the clock chimed, struggling to get to his feet and staggering about the room once he had. Redd walked in to him being sick near that damned clock, and was already over before Greyson could step away.
He was directed to the same couch he’d been put on before, when he’d thought it was a dream, and the thought of it all wrenched a shaky laugh out of him. Redd’s furrowed brow flashed in and out of his vision as he sat, doing something with some blanket he’d pulled from who knows where, until it finally stilled in front of him. He’d managed to get a rag from somewhere that smelled of dust and age but still could wipe the sweat, and more, away from Grey’s mouth.
“Greyson, what happened?” He asked, his voice soft and the whole situation nearly made Grey sick again, “I heard you fall.”
He tried to speak around the rasp of his throat and only managed a pained wheeze. The blanket Redd had found before was over Grey’s shoulders and pulled tighter around him when he shuddered. He felt like he was full of cotton, weary and dazed and barely able to move when Redd shifted him to open a space next to him on the couch.
“Sorry. I couldn’t find any water,” Redd shuffled carefully into the spot he’d freed, supporting Grey with one hand while the other vanished from sight, “I’m going to get some from the bar, unless you’re feeling up to a margarita?” His smile was reassuring in spite of it all, and Grey huffed quietly when he could return a small smile of his own.
“I’ll take that as a no. I’ll be right back, let me just-” he felt Redd’s other hand press on the back of his mask and his own hand struck out to grab his wrist. Redd looked shocked and Grey felt his heart freeze in his chest. He held Redd’s wrist for a moment, watching him, before slowly easing his grip. “No mask,” he looked straight at Redd, begging quietly that he understood.
Redd’s face betrayed his thoughts, but his hand still pulled away from it, “No mask. Okay. I’ll get you some water.”
Grey mentally mapped out the path to the bar in his head, as long as Redd didn’t go to the casino, or back into the theatre, he’d be fine. Satisfied with the map in his head, he nodded to Redd and watched him stand to leave. His steps were hesitant, and every step or so he’d look back over his shoulder at Grey, until he left the room completely.
“Okay,” he took a shaky breath and brought the blanket up higher on his shoulders, letting it hang over his lap, “No taking the mask off, and no dying.” He laughed, “The usual then!”
The joke fell flat in the silence and his body slumped with it. He stretched out on the couch and moved the blanket to cover him instead, regretting letting Redd leave him alone so quickly. The clock ticked away across from him, and he gave it a half-hearted glare before letting his eyes close. Redd would be back soon with some water, and then he could think about everything. The robot from the casino crossed his thoughts for a moment before he settled, leaving it for when Redd came back.
The sound of the show starting in the theatre ripped him from his sleep and he sat up fast enough to send the room tilting. The blanket fell to the floor as he stood and ran over to the theatre doors, peering in and nearly collapsing in relief when the room appeared empty. He stood back then, checking the time and frowning. He’d slept for hours, hours past when Redd should have been back. A pit of dread opened in his stomach and he ignored the acrid taste on his tongue in favour of heading back out through the main hall, following the path he hoped Redd had taken to the less-popular bar nearby.
It was empty when he reached it, and the music coming through the door across him only aided in unsettling him. He stepped further into the bar and began a quick search, hoping there weren’t any glasses half-empty with acid.
He spent an hour looking, trying the hall next door and even the more popular What’s Your Poison? bar. The cold in the bar couldn’t compete with the emptiness, everything felt abandoned even with music echoing through the doors. He could hear a clock chiming somewhere, near the casino, and he thought of what the robot had said.
-----
“Shit,” he muttered, glaring at the clock ahead of him from his position on the floor. He listened for a moment, sitting up as he heard Redd’s footsteps approach.
“I’m fine,” he started before Redd could ask, standing on unsteady feet and brushing off his tailcoat, “I need to go.”
“Grey, wait,” Redd came over and if Grey was any kind of artist he would be able to recreate Redd’s worried frown from memory now, “What happened? I thought I heard you fall.”
“I did, I’m alright,” he straightened out his tie and turned away from Redd to head toward the exit.
He heard Redd make a confused sound behind him before he caught up, falling into step with Grey and looking between the hall and him. “What’s going on? You were sure we’d find the egg in there,” Redd asked, thankfully not noticing the hitch in Grey’s breath, “Did you get a new lead?”
“You could say that,” he tried for his usual grin, “I have a hunch we could get some… helpful information still, with the right questions.”
Redd’s smile poked through his concern and he laughed, “After all the questioning you’ve already done? I’d be surprised if Lucas himself has anything else after your interrogation.”
“We’ll see,” he replied, leaving it at that. Lucas would be a target eventually, if this wasn’t somehow his fault, but Trinity would have to come first. If Clay was the same as Redd then he’d be exactly where he was before, and if Trinity was the same as them both then she’d be headed for some kind of disaster. He hoped not, but everything was piling up around him, from the poison to the cage and to Trinity’s disappearance.
He checked his watch and let his shoulders relax by a fraction; they were earlier than the last time and it was still possible they’d catch Trinity before she vanished.
The casino felt as quiet as it did the last time he’d come through, the music buzzing through the area rather than filling the space as it was supposed to. The grandfather clock near the entrance was loud against the music and he frowned with its ticking, “It’s louder this time.”
Redd blinked, head turning back and forth before settling on Grey, “What’s louder? The music?”
“No, I- The clock over there,” he waved his hand to it, “Maybe I just noticed it.”
The quick glance Redd gave the clock and the following downturn of his mouth was enough to know he’d caught Grey’s blunder; the nervous curl of his fingers even more obvious. Greyson tried to force a laugh and a smile with it, coming up just short, “Now that I’ve had a second listen for it, it’s more minute than I thought.”
It was enough to startle a laugh out of Redd, and with that his suspicion seemed to ease. He turned away from Greyson to look around the room, his arms crossed over his chest, “Well, who are we here to question?”
“I was thinking your lovely sister in-law,” he said, casting one last look at the clock before stepping toward the door to the baccarat tables. Redd made a considering noise before stepping around him, just in the way of the door, with an amused smile. His broad shoulders blocked the way easily and Grey barely managed to hold in a grumble at the delay. Normally the behaviour would be quite fun, a few more quips, a few well-meant jabs if they were feeling particularly cheeky, but now the clock behind him was announcing every second Trinity got further away from being found.
“Trinity?” Redd tilted his head to the side with his eyes still on Grey, “Thinking she’s hidden the egg in one of her statues?”
“Before you roll your eyes at me, it’s possible! We’ve searched everywhere else, why not in her statues?”
“Because she’d have told someone, probably you,” he dropped his arms and stepped out of the way, amused smile upgrading to a grin, “She still likes to break into the safe in Clay’s office and she does it with your spare picks.”
Greyson didn’t hesitate to step forward and grab the door handle, but did pause at the brief flash of warmth Redd’s words inspired. He chuckled shortly, “Recognising picks and getting secrets, we’ll make a security expert of you yet.”
Redd’s laugh was quiet and shy, and it followed Grey into the next room as he stepped through. It was as it was last time, with a few more drinks to the side, and Clay turned with an excited grin for his brother. He rose and the two hugged, talking while Greyson glanced around the room for any sign of Trinity. It wasn’t that late and she couldn’t have been gone for the whole of twelve hours, she must have left recently if Clay wasn’t already out looking for her. He didn’t think on what he’d do if she’d left before he woke each time, it’d be something he’d have to figure out if it came up.
“Greyson! Keeping out of trouble?” Clay’s rough face turned to him and, for the sake of appeasing his brother, he held out his hand for Grey to shake. His grip was firmer than necessary, as usual, but he did stop before it became painful; it was an improvement at least.
“Keeping my options open, more like,” he forced a chuckle, “Speaking of, have you seen Trinity lately? I believe she has some information that could help me with some of this ‘trouble’.”
He watched Clay frown and sigh before running one of his overly large hands across his face. The mention of his wife had brought some spark into his eyes but the association with Greyson had definitely drained it, and he made to replicate that spark’s draining with a shot that he downed in one motion. “Just missed her, she went for a walk. Though if I catch you dragging her around on some scheme-”
“No scheme! Just a question or two,” he turned a quick smile on Redd before grinning at Clay in a way he hoped was covering his growing dread, “I heard she may have a lock to pick with me.”
Redd snorted, and Clay looked to the ceiling for patience. He dropped his gaze back to Greyson with a roll of his shoulders and asked, “Bad enough Redd gets your bad habits, you really have to take his as well?”
“Occupational hazard,” he reached out and pat Redd’s shoulder, doubling the movement as a hopefully subtle nudge toward one of the room’s exits, “We must get going then, places to be, people to see.”
“Oh let Redd off for the night, will you?” Clay’s hand reached out and Greyson felt the cold air cross his palm, suddenly empty of Redd’s shoulder, “I haven’t seen my brother in days.”
“It’s been a few hours, at most,” Redd said, though he still smiled and nodded. He seemed ready to settle in with Clay and have a few hands with Reginald’s robot, if the glances he was throwing at the table’s seats were any indication. Even the idea of letting Redd out of his sight sent a dreadful chill down his spine and, before he could really stop himself, he’d reached out to grab Redd’s wrist.
He looked startled with the motion and more so with the hand on him, despite just having Grey take his shoulder. It was an interesting look, but it wasn’t as telling as Clay’s focus on his brother’s face rather than on Greyson. If he had the time he would have left his hand there, seen what either brother would have done and hopefully escaped whatever fate Clay decided was worth the unknown line he’d crossed, but Trinity was still missing; he couldn’t spend his time here when she could easily be dead in some forgotten corner. As much as Clay liked to insist otherwise, Grey enjoyed having her around for more than just lockpicking. She had a sharp sense of humour, and was wickedly excellent with plans for things from statues to games of “Hide the Rockridges’ Various Possessions”. With that thought he let Redd go, and then watched his gaze drift down to where his wrist had been held.
“Have fun then, I’ll be back soon hopefully one sculptor richer,” he winked at Clay, who only huffed and turned back to the dealing robot. Redd was still there, facing him now with a curious lift to his brow, and Grey lowered his voice to avoid the other Rockridge brother hearing, “Stay away from the drinks tonight, alright?”
Redd stared at him for a moment, eyes flickering to the drinks table Clay had set up, “Might have already lost Clay’s
shot
at that.”
Despite it all Grey still laughed, quiet and rough, “I can see that, only- Leave some for later? We’ll need a few of us sober to get Clay out of the casino.”
He nodded, “No drinks.”
“No drinks,” he agreed and then sighed, letting his shoulders droop in relief. At least there was one thing he didn’t need to worry about.
“Then,” Redd’s expression returned to the ever-familiar realm of concern and his hand hesitated before resting gently over Grey’s wrist, “You’ll tell me what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? Why would-”
“Playing dumb doesn’t work on me, Grey. You would’ve remembered that if everything was alright,” Redd squeezed his wrist once, softly, before letting go, “You’ll tell me later.”
Grey would’ve, if there was a later to tell him in. Instead he nodded and tried to smile, “I will. Watch that miscreant brother of yours for me while I look for his far more charming wife, will you?”
Redd snorted, concern eased in the promise of future answers, “I think I’m the miscreant brother between Clay and I, and you’re the one who made me it.”
“I’ll take credit for a job well done,” he offered one last smile before turning and moving out of the room. He let the door shut on the Rockridge brothers’ starting chatter before beginning his search.
It turned out the casino was empty, the main room the only exception, and with every minute that passed Grey could only think of the time he’d wasted not looking for Trinity. Matters were made worse when the security doors became a stopping point rather than an easily slipped annoyance; of all the times for Lucas to change the passcodes this had to be the worst.
He peered through a keyhole to the hall he and Redd had entered through, muttering under his breath about certain ridiculous architects and one-way locks. The hallway came up empty and he stood with a sigh to move to the next room.
The must of dust and old books surprised him as he stepped into the centre of the room, the books on the shelves appeared well cared for, if not new, and the little dust he could see by the room’s locked north door shouldn’t have been enough to create the smell. He sniffed and spun on his heel, crouching in front of the locked door and trying to steady himself to look through the keyhole.
There she was, Trinity, standing in the middle of a dimly lit room he vaguely remembered Lucas describing and Thanos proudly gesturing to on a map. He stood by his decision to ignore the room in his reports as he noticed the abundance of moths fluttering gently around the room, just coming short of brushing against Trinity while she moved about the room. The dust from them all was already glistening in her hair and his nose twitched in sympathy.
His decision seemed even more correct when he spotted the glowing red eyes hovering a metre or two above the floor.
“Trinity!” He cupped his hands around his mouth and pressed them to the keyhole, barely managing to stop himself yelling about the largest spider he’d ever seen , “Trinity are you alright in there?”
He paused until he could hear her footsteps and cane faintly, approaching him, before speaking again and hoping his voice didn’t fail him, “How on Earth did you manage getting in there? The doors’ codes have been changed.”
“You need a keen ear,” she was closer now, and the amusement was clear in her voice, “helps if the staff think you’re “Good Lady Trinity” and won’t listen when they input the code.”
The tension the doors, and Trinity’s mysterious vanishing, had put on his shoulders released itself. If she’d heard the code and gotten herself inside, then she could help him get her out, “Would the good lady Trinity like me to unlock the door for her, then?”
She heaved a sigh, “Clay must be upset if he’s sent you, I knew it was a surprise!”
“I’m sure he’s just worried,” he took a glance through the keyhole again and tensed at the red eyes he could still see on the back wall, around the side Trinity’s dress, “I don’t think he knows you’re here yet, but the sooner we get back the less likely his is to know.”
“Is that a threat, Greyson? Sly dog, cornering a defenceless artist when she has no exit,” her laugh felt strange with everything happening at that moment, and Grey thanked whoever may have been listening that his voice hadn’t betrayed his nervousness yet. He snapped to attention as Trinity recited the code to the door, quickly inputting it and wrenching the door open to guide Trinity out.
“In a rush, are we?” Trinity laughed again over Greyson closing the door and making sure it was locked, “I’m not missing some fun party am I?”
“Not at all, I figured you were eager to get back to Clay and let him surprise you.”
“That’s the first good idea I’ve heard all night, I could go for a romantic evening for two,” her smirk was enough for Grey to get her meaning; he couldn’t help chuckling and settled on stepping just behind her as she navigated the casino. She pushed open the next door, one room away from Clay and Redd, and spoke again, “In fact, I could convince Clay to surprise me another way, if you’d like some space of your own.”
He blinked at her for a moment before red eyes appeared in his mind’s eye, he shook his head and tried for humour, “I hardly think a solo act requires that much room.”
“Abandoning Redd so easily?” She laughed, “After all the running around you make him do!”
He felt the conversation slip away from him, confusion drawing his brow together, “Didn’t you hear all the moths in there? Some of us do enjoy not being surrounded by clothes-eating insects while searching for hidden treasures.”
She reached the door to the main room, tapping it once with her cane before grabbing the handle. The look under her mask was similar to the smirk she’d had before, “I doubt they’re really that hidden, just let the moths do their work and they’ll be revealed in no time.”
He didn’t get the chance to reply to her or the quick upwards twitch of her grin before they were both in the room and headed toward a bored-looking Clay. He lit up at the sight of Trinity and was immediately beside her, wrapping thick arms around her waist and nuzzling into her neck. The sight would have it been sweet if not for Redd’s overbearing absence. His sweater was hung over the chair by Clay’s and a shot of whiskey sat, full, on the table in front of it, ready to be drunk and possibly ready to kill whoever did.
He turned to question Clay only to see him and Trinity removing their masks, looking relieved for no reason he could see. The sight of their faces softened the hard lump of dread in his chest, and it seemed the feeling was mutual as both of them smiled. Their masks were set on the table, beside Clay’s abandoned hand, and seemingly forgotten about as they turned to face Greyson.
Trinity spoke first, her hand around Clay’s, “I hear there’s a scheme I was supposed to be let in on?”
Clay rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the affection in his smile, “No scheme, he just had questions.”
“Ah, so questions now and the scheme when you’re not around, love?”
The banter was familiar, spending time with Redd looking for the egg often led to spending time with his family, but unlike usual it only aided in building that lump of dread back up in his chest. Redd was now missing, and he’d no idea for how long.
“Clay,” he started, trying to soften his tone when their smiles faltered, “Where’s Redd?”
He didn’t miss the nudge Trinity gave Clay with her elbow, but chose not to comment on it.
“He went to get some water, something about me being a lightweight,” he laughed, in direct contrast with the unsettled horror making its way on top of Greyson’s dread-filled chest, “Really though I think he didn’t want to admit he’s the real lightweight of the family. Can’t handle any of it!”
He didn’t hear any more after that, already pushing past the two of them and out of the main room. That horrible sense of again had returned, twisting inside him and making his legs shake with every step out of the casino and toward the bars. He’d saved Trinity, and Redd had saved Clay, so they should be fine right? He could hear a clock start chiming in the distance from his place in the empty bar near the theatre, the beginning of the twelfth hour. He couldn’t find Redd in time, but Redd hadn’t touched any of the drinks so he’d surely be fine. It would be like last time, where he’d been busy off in some other part of the mansion, and all Grey needed to do was find him after the clock stopped calling and saving Trinity and Clay’s lives released him from the loop.
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