Ace of Spades

by willowwtree

Summary:

“Hey guys! Look what I found!” Noob exclaimed, slightly out of breath but positively beaming.

That’s when Chance finally was struck with the realization that, oh yeah, Noob was carrying something. He finally noticed the strange bundle of fluff in Noob’s arm—an animal, that much was clear. A large one at that, nearly the size of Noob’s torso. And its long ears were pressed against its head—

Holy shit.

That wasn’t just any animal, that was a rabbit. His rabbit.

or

Spade gets forsaken’d!! This could not possibly go wrong!!

Notes:

you know the hyperfixation is bad when ANOTHER fic comes out for the SAME fandom in a MONTH. oh yeah, it’s THAT bad.

this one will be a wild ride, i promise. there WILL be plot!!! and paycheck, so it’s a win win

Chapter 1: new friend

So far, Chance has had a pretty unlucky day to say the least.

 

First of all, he barely had time to wake up and get out of bed before he was thrusted into a round. Second of all, his coin refused to land on heads. And, of course, the cherry on the top of the cake was his gun blowing up on him and finishing him off right on the spot.

 

Yeah, it had been a bad start.

 

Since then, he had rotated around the cabin, doing whatever sustained his attention span for the time being. Now, he sat on the chair next to the stairs while Elliot and Two Time chatted on the sofa, half-listening to their conversation as he flipped his coin aimlessly. The other survivors seemed to have all retired to their cabins or were spending time elsewhere. Honestly, Chance had not been paying attention.

 

They just wanted something interesting to happen. He tried playing darts, but that had gotten boring fast. So did pool. All that was left was engaging in mindless chatter, but not even that could capture his wholehearted attention.

 

And so, here he was, thinking about whatever crossed his mind and also nothing at all, pretty much fully zoned out in thought.

 

Just then, the door to the cabin slammed open, causing Chance to startle upright where he sat. He cursed under his breath as his coin almost slipped from his grasp, just barely managing to keep a hand on it. When he looked up, he saw Noob in the door frame, a bright smile on their face.

 

“Hey guys! Look what I found!” They exclaimed, slightly out of breath but positively beaming.

 

That’s when Chance finally was struck with the realization that, oh yeah, Noob was carrying something. He finally noticed the strange bundle of fluff in Noob’s arm—an animal, that much was clear. A large one at that, nearly the size of Noob’s torso. And its long ears were pressed against its head—

 

Holy shit.

 

That wasn’t just any animal, that was a rabbit. His rabbit. 

 

So many questions suddenly ran rampant in his head, spinning through swiftly like a slot machine. He barely managed to process the fact that Spade was here before Two Time started speaking.

 

“Ah! A gift from the Spawn!” They proclaimed, standing up from the sofa with their hands clasped together. “A sign of good fortune! A meal for us to feast upon!”

 

Noob’s eyes widened at that, their hands readjusting to hold the rabbit Spade closer to their chest protectively.

 

“Y- You can’t do that, they’re a friend!” Noob shot back, taking a step backwards as Elliot watched on.

 

“Have we ever had any animals around here before?” He asked, eyes narrowing confusedly. “Are we sure it doesn’t have like.. rabies-? Or something?”

 

Chance blinked a few times. Oh, Telamon, this could not be happening.

 

“She does not have rabies, thank you very much,” Chance suddenly said, shaking his head. The others turned to look at him, caught off guard by him finally speaking after who knows how long of sitting there silently.

 

Suddenly, Spade started squirming in Noob’s grasp, spurred on by something like recognition. Noob let out a noise of surprise, grip loosening just enough to allow her to jump out of their arms and safely onto the floor.

 

Nobody moved for a moment, watching as Spade walked forwards with an air of arrogance towards Chance, small bunny nose twitching. She came up right to the foot of his chair, sitting down with a tilt of her head.

 

Chance couldn’t help the warm smile that tugged on his lips, hands instinctively reaching down to pick Spade up and hoist her onto his lap. 

 

“Hey, girl,” he murmured softly, carefully petting the fur in between the rabbit’s ears. Her fur was just as soft as the last time he felt it, all that time ago. She was just the same as when he last saw her..

 

 

“You ready to leave?” 

 

Chance scoffed from where they stood in the kitchen, scouring through cabinets. “Give me like.. five seconds, ‘Trap,” he shot back, a smile on his face.

 

The man just frowned back at them, turning to face away from them in exchange for looking at the bland walls instead.

 

“Oh, relax,” Chance teased, “I’m just tryna find this goddamn rabbit food..”

 

iTrapped just hummed. “And you couldn’t have done that an hour ago?”

 

The gambler rolled his eyes. “Nobody’s gonna shoot themselves before you get there, promise,” he retorted back with a wink, one iTrapped couldn’t see through his shades anyway. “Wow, you’re impatient today.”

 

With a sigh, iTrapped took a seat on the living room couch, keeping his usual stoic posture. His eyes trailed to the carpet, where a fluffy, black bunny padded up to him. The rabbit sat down by his feet, looking him straight in the eyes silently, almost as if it were assessing him silently.

 

iTrapped narrowed his eyes back at the rabbit, whose nose twitched ever so slightly. Her ears twitched once, before she suddenly padded forward and bit down on his dress pants, tugging with all her tiny might.

 

“You pest!” iTrapped hissed back under his breath, attempting to kick her away. But the rabbit just nipped at the exposed skin of his ankle instead.

 

“Spade, stop,” he stressed, swiftly moving his legs away. “Chance, tell your rodent to quit it.” 

 

Chance just cackled where he was by the counter, a bag of pet food in one hand and a bowl in the other. “Aww, she likes you,” they teased, placing the bowl down on the floor.

 

iTrapped looked at Chance coldly, before averting his gaze back down to the smug-looking rabbit sitting on the edge of the carpet.

 

“C’mere, Spade!” Chance called out, the sound of tiny pellets clanging against the bowl as he filled it up.

 

The rabbit gave him one last smug look before scampering back over to the kitchen, starting to eat as Chance let out a sigh of accomplishment. They looked up at iTrapped, raising an eyebrow.

 

“You good, ‘Trap?” They asked, tilting their head.

 

iTrapped grit his teeth, before giving Chance a forced smile. “Just fine, Chancey,” he hummed. “I just wish you kept that thing on a leash.”

 

Chance chuckled, walking towards the couch. “Spade?” He asked with mock offense. “Nah, she’ll be fine. She couldn’t hurt a fly!”

 

“She tried to rip my pants,” iTrapped murmured in response.

 

“And you’re fine, aren’t you?” Chance responded, clapping a hand on iTrapped’s back. “Maybe you need to be nicer to her.”

 

iTrapped bristled at Chance’s words (not the contact, definitely). “Maybe you need to feed her less, she takes up more space on the bed than you.”

 

Chance’s jaw dropped in faux offense. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean!” He shot back. “Don’t insult me or my bunny, excuse you.” Despite what he was saying, his words were paired with a gleeful smile, perhaps at the domestic back and forth.

 

“Hmph. Fine,” iTrapped murmured, starting to stand as he shrugged off Chance’s hand.

 

Chance stood up beside him, stretching their arms over their head. “Great,” he smiled. “Let’s head out?”

 

iTrapped nodded in response, following Chance towards the door, his hand grasping at the air by his side where he knew the Darkheart was still sheathed. Hidden. He gave one more glance behind him, meeting the beady, totally-not-innocent eyes of Spade glaring at him almost knowingly.

 

With that, the two had turned around and left the apartment.

 

Chance would never return to see her again.

Well, great. That was the last thing they wanted to be remembering. 

 

“Um.. Chance-?” A sudden voice called out, breaking him out of his thoughts.

 

Chance blinked a few times, looking up to see everyone staring at him. Oh, wonderful. Even better. He cleared his throat briefly, trying to break the awkward tension. 

 

“What, you’ve never seen a giant rabbit before?” The gambler attempted to joke, cringing slightly at the way his unnatural smile spread. Elliot just looked at him strangely.

 

“So.. you know this rabbit then?” He asked slowly, almost with a slight hesitance.

 

Chance took a quick moment to put his poker face back onto his face, all his efforts going into maintaining his usual smirk. “You know it! Her name’s Spade.”

 

They heard Elliot mumble a small ‘huh” under his breath as Two Time’s manic smile widened.

 

“Oh, praise the Spawn! For they’ve given us another sign of life from the waking world!” They praised, stepping closer to Chance.

 

Spade squeaked softly, ears pinned back as she huddled closer to Chance’s chest. He cringed at the crazed look in cultists eyes, choosing to just laugh nervously instead.

 

“So, wait- th- theyre actually your pet?” Noob asked incredulously. “Does that mean we can keep them?”

 

Chance flashed them his usual smile. “You bet!”

 

Meanwhile, Elliot still seemed just as confused as before.

 

“How does a rabbit even get here? Is that even.. allowed?” 

 

The gambler paused at that. It was a good question, actually. How did Spade get here? His hands stilled where they had been stroking the rabbit’s black fur, brow furrowing.

 

Knowing what he knew about this place, it was safe to assume most of the survivors here had all been brought here personally or by a much more painful fate. One they’d all learn to adapt to since arriving here.

 

Had the Spectre brought her here for them? Or had she suffered a similar end as himself?

 

Nope. No, he’s not even considering that. 

 

Then again, how would Spade have managed without him? The only person who knew of her was him, and if he hadn’t cared enough about Chance, he sure as hell wouldn’t have cared enough to feed his damn rabbit.

 

“Huh,” Chance murmured softly. “I don’t know, actually.” 

 

Spade nudged his hand, silently asking for more attention, as per usual. He silently continued petting her head, looking down at her beady little eyes.

 

“What do you say, girl, hm? Wanna tell us how you got here?” He asked, his voice taking on that “pet-owner” tone.

 

Spade didn’t respond, obviously, nudging their hand again insistently instead.

 

“Fine, be like that,” he mumbled in return, looking back up at the others.

 

“I- I didn’t know you had a pet,” Noob said softly, hands playing with the loose threads of their sweater.

 

Chance chuckled, shifting in his seat. “Guess I didn’t, huh,” he echoed, “Yeah, I got her a few years ago. Won her in a game of blackjack.”

 

Elliot raised an eyebrow. “Really? Since when did casinos offer giant bunnies as prizes?”

 

The gambler shrugged. “Since I owned the casino, probably,” he smirked, “But that was a special case, anyway. Lady Luck was smiling down on me then.”

 

Two Time hummed, suddenly appearing beside Chance, causing them to yelp in surprise. “Perhaps a sign of good fortune.. Yes, I wonder.. Why was the mammal sent here-?” Their hand reached out, slowly approaching Spade’s head.

 

Instinctively, the rabbit reached forward and nipped at Two Time’s hand, tiny teeth meeting flesh.

 

The cultist recoiled, eyes widening. “Aggressive vermin!” They exclaimed, “You’re lucky I don’t feast upon you this instant!”

 

Chance placed a hand on Spade’s head, drawing her closer to himself as Elliot stood up from the couch and carefully moved to intervene.

 

“Hey, let’s all be chill, okay?” He said, exhaustion lacing his tone as he put his hands on his hips. “Two Time, why don’t you see if anyone needs help in the kitchen, alright?” 

 

They seemed to peek up a bit at that. “Yes, pizza man, I will warn them of the vile creature! Maybe they will appreciate the sentiment!” With that, they hurriedly turned and rushed away.

 

Elliot sighed, shaking his head as Noob opened their mouth to speak. “I should probably go make sure they don’t accidentally, um, rile everyone up, I guess,” they mumbled meekly, giving the two of them a small wave before turning to follow the cultist.

 

With that, it left just Elliot and Chance in the main room together.

 

“So,” Elliot said after a moment of silence. “You okay?”

 

Chance paused at the question, his mask falling for a brief moment out of surprise before he quickly fixed his expression.

 

“I’m all good, pal,” the gambler chimed, smirking. “Couldn’t be better!”

 

Elliot gave him a brief look of.. concern? Maybe disbelief? Either way, he didn’t push it, just frowning slightly.

 

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, Elli,” Chance added for good measure, tone more sympathetic. “Seriously.”

 

The other man just sighed, hands falling from his hips. “Well, if you ever need anything..”

 

Chance smiled at him in return. “Yeah, yeah, I gotcha,” he responded.

 

Spade huffed slightly where she sat on his lap, her eyes now closed. She seemed to have fallen asleep at some point. Elliot hummed at the sight.

 

“We’re gonna have to figure out what to do about all… this,” he mumbled, “do we even have food for her?”

 

Oh. Yeah, that was important.

 

“Uhhh..” Chance trailed off slowly, “maybe the grass outside..? They eat that, right?”

 

Elliot raised an eyebrow, giving Chance a look that very much said you cannot be serious before sighing. “Pretty sure that’s all fake, but maybe. We might have some spare carrots in the fridge, too.”

 

“Great thinkin’,” Chance huffed, standing up from his chair with his hands still gently cradled around Spade. He opened his mouth to speak before being cut off with a slight yawn.

 

“I guess I’ll be off to bed,” the gambler mumbled instead, offering Elliot a faint smile.

 

“You do that. I’m gonna check to make sure the kitchen hasn’t exploded,” Elliot chimed back with a smile. “Sleep well!”

 

With a soft squeeze to his shoulder, Elliot turned and started walking off elsewhere.

 

Chance just sighed, clutching Spade a little closer as they made their way out the front door and entered the outside world. If you could even call it that. 

 

The forest outside the cabin was stuck in a permanent fixture of darkness. There wasn’t any wind, just the stale feeling of air that felt so different and unnatural that Chance felt sick if he thought about it too much.

 

For someone who spent their whole life cooped up inside the artificial, bright realm of the casino, he had never longed more for the scent of fresh air. Chance shook his head out of those thoughts. It wasn’t something that he should waste time lingering on.

 

Slowly, he made his way into his cabin, quietly opening the door so as to not disturb Spade asleep against his chest. The room was empty, left just like it was this morning. In all honesty, they were surprised that Taph, their roommate, wasn’t here yet. Probably hanging out with the other admins, or something, if he had to guess.

 

With a sigh, Chance made his way towards the bed, carefully putting Spade down right on the edge. As he took off his shades and fedora, placing them on the dresser beside his bed, he had half a mind to hope someone told Taph about, y'know, the giant bunny now sharing their room. Oh well.

 

After changing out of his suit and into pajamas, he flopped onto the bed with a tired huff. 

 

Today was not supposed to be this exhausting. Sure, the rounds always left him with the lingering soreness, but this felt more bone deep. Mental.

 

Chance loved Spade, that much was true. She was the rabbit he had rightfully won (fair and square) and raised as a companion. A friend—

 

—But he couldn’t help the other memories that intruded against his will. Memories of cold words and colder touches, flashing lights of the casino mixing with the quick flash of a gun—

 

Nope. Absolutely not, he was not going there. Not tonight.

 

His eyes landed back on Spade, curled up comfortably at the foot of their bed. A messed up part of him wondered if maybe she had met the same fate as him. Was iTrapped really that cruel? He never seemed to like her before..

 

That didn’t add up, though. She would’ve joined him a lot sooner otherwise. In fact, if she had been left uncared for, even for a week or so, she would’ve ended up here. Now he was even more confused.

 

Had he really taken care of Spade? After stabbing him in cold blood (literally), it seemed almost comical to imagine such a thing. The thought of the man returning to their apartment, hands stained with blood as Spade just sat there, wondering if her owner would ever come back. Was that how it had gone down—?

 

A creeping, twisting feeling arose in Chance’s gut, their throat closing up momentarily. Thinking about the fact that the world had just moved on without him, without all of them, made him feel ill. 

 

With a sigh, Chance forced himself to snap out of it, shaking out of his thoughts. They pulled the blanket further up over themselves, staring at the ceiling. Despite how tired he had felt mere moments ago, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to sleep anymore.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there restlessly, but at some point, his brain finally seemed to quiet as he faded into unconsciousness, curled up in bed with cold thoughts of iTrapped on the brain.

Chapter 2: breakfast date

Summary:

spade is an absolute menace and elliot makes breakfast

It was cold. That was the first thing Chance recognized.

 

A cold hand was resting on his shoulder, putting just too much pressure to be comfortable, enough for him to bite back a wince.

 

“Heh.. guess I won again,” Chance tried to quip, but his usual enthusiasm was quelled by the tense atmosphere of the room. “iTrapped?”

 

The man’s grip dug further into his plush suit, before it suddenly dropped.

 

“Congrats, Chancey,” he said, voice tinged with a frosty edge that the gambler couldn’t quite place. “You always were lucky, weren’t you?”

 

Chance opened their mouth to speak, but was instead met with a light shove to the back. Suddenly, his vision swam, the picture changed. His surroundings morphed into something new, something familiar. A forest painted in white, flurries of snow dancing around him.

 

iTrapped stood a ways ahead of him, shoulders tense. His hair was blowing with the icy wind, yet he didn’t flinch.

 

Hesitantly, Chance took a few steps forward, their shoes crunching in the firm snow below him. “‘Trap?” They called out, stopping just a bit behind him, enough to maintain that invisible barrier iTrapped always seemed to have. One step too close and he’d been invading his personal space, and Chance couldn’t have that.

 

iTrapped still remained quiet, but his hands had clenched at his sides. Just as Chance opened his mouth to call out again, the man spun around in one second and was in his face the next.

 

Whatever words Chance was about to say died on his lips, widened eyes meeting iTrapped’s icy blue ones. He looked down, hands trembling as he took in the sight of a pitch black blade rammed into his abdomen.

 

He barely had time to process the sword currently impaling him before iTrapped’s grip on it tightened, twisting it roughly before pulling it out with enough force to send Chance to the ground.

 

Black spots danced across his vision as his back met the uninviting chill of the snow, a choked wince escaping him.

 

Above him, iTrapped’s form didn’t waver, staring down at him with a mixture of disgust and glee in his eyes. Chance didn’t know the last time they had seen their friend smile like that.

 

“Why-?” He croaked out instead, trying to keep his eyes focused on the looming man in front of him.

 

iTrapped didn’t respond. Instead, he gave them one more look up and down, before turning to leave.

 

Chance mustered all of his strength in that moment to grasp onto the edge of iTrapped’s cloak, smearing blood onto the fabric.

 

It was just enough to get the man to stop, turning back to look at them apathetically.

 

“Y- You’re just gonna… leave me here?” Chance wheezed out. He could taste iron in his mouth now, every word forced out of his body.

 

iTrapped’s expression didn’t change, but a soft, visible breath escaped him, swirling around into the snow. Slowly, he lowered himself to Chance’s side, refusing to make eye contact.

 

The gambler couldn’t even thank him, his tongue feeling limp in his mouth. The corners of his vision were starting to darken now. Eventually, his eyes involuntarily slipped shut, the cold embrace of the snow fading around him. 

 

The last thing he could recall was the faint ghost of an icy touch against his cheek before the last of his energy faded.

 

 

Chance awoke with a gasp, shooting upright in his bed. Their hand immediately flew to their abdomen, letting out a choked breath at the familiar phantom pain coursing through him. 

 

It was the same dream he always had after his quote-unquote bad days. The dream that left him frozen with more than fear.

 

Speaking of which, he was cold. A shudder involuntarily ran through him, causing him to pull the blanket further over him despite his shaking hands. His whole body was shivering.

 

Telamon, it was freezing. He hadn’t felt this cold since then—

 

Suddenly, a warm presence brushed against his hand, causing them to recoil instinctively. Their eyes immediately looked down towards the source, just to be met with the familiar sight of Spade resting besides him. She nudged his hand again, blinking up at him innocently. 

 

Chance let out a relieved breath, body untensing slightly as he brought his trembling hand to the space in between Spade’s ears.

 

“Hey, bud,” he whispered shakily, “did I wake you?”

 

The rabbit's ears just twitched in response, slowly padding onto his lap with his hand still resting on her head. She curled into a little ball, warm fur pressed against Chance’s chest, looking incredibly content.

 

He let out a shaky laugh, continuing to pet her almost greedily, feeling the biting cold slowly melt away in response. Spade didn’t seem to mind, licking their hand in an appreciative gesture. All things considered, it was a surprisingly domestic moment, one Chance wouldn’t mind sitting in for awhile. 

 

However, as he looked around the room, he noticed the distinct absence of Taph in the bed beside him. The demolitionist was a light sleeper all things considered, so if Chance hadn’t woken them up, something else did. 

 

In fact, Chance had no idea what time it was. With the consistent nighttime that plagued this realm, it was hard to keep track of any semblance of time. The only thing they had to help them was an old grandfather clock in the main lobby. Of course, that would mean Chance would have to get out of bed and walk over there to find out. Knowing his luck these past few days, it was probably either the dead of night or mere moments before a round was due to start, no in between.

 

Chance groaned, slowly dragging his legs to the side of the bed and standing up, still firmly holding Spade against him. He didn’t even bother changing, choosing to just quietly exit their cabin and make their way to the main one.

 

It wasn’t a long walk, and soon enough, they were pushing open the large wooden door to enter the living room. He was immediately bathed in a warm light as he stepped inside, telling him that more people were most definitely awake right now.

 

As they quietly padded inside, they were met with the sight of Shedletsky and Builderman on the couch. The gray-haired man turned around at the sound of him approaching, giving him a tired smile in welcome.

 

“Mornin’, kid,” the admin said gruffly, causing Shedletsky to turn in response.

 

“Oh, hey, Chance!” He chirped, way too eager for whatever early hour it was. “Is that the vermin Two Time was telling us about yesterday?”

 

Chance blinked, looking down. Oh, right. He had brought Spade with him— Wait, vermin?

 

The gambler scoffed, making their way to the couch. “She has a name actually,” he shot back, rolling his eyes. “Her name is Spade.”

 

Shedletsky raised an eyebrow at that. “You named her after your gambling addiction?”

 

Chance gave him an incredulous look back, eyes widening slightly. At the chuckle that escaped Shedletsky’s mouth, they realized they hadn’t put their shades back on before leaving. Whoops.

 

He mentally put his poker face back into place, internally facepalming at his impulsive decision. 

 

“She is not named after my—“ He cut himself off, looking back at the winged man. “I do not have an addiction!” 

 

Shedletsky just snorted at that, even Builderman seemed to raise an eyebrow.

 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you look more upset than when you realized those slot machines up there were fake, actually,” the brunette pointed out, wearing a smug smirk.

 

“Well, they would’ve been something interesting to do,” Chance mumbled back under his breath, before shaking his head.

 

“What did Two Time tell you anyway?” He said instead, pivoting the subject of the conversation.

 

Builderman sighed. “That there was a creature possessed by the devil that bit ‘em or somethin’,” he explained gruffly.

 

“I’ll be the first to tell ya that Spade here is very much so not possessed,” Chance chimed back, the rabbit in question squirming slightly in their grasp. 

 

“No, but I bet she’s hungry,” Shedletsky pointed out, watching as Spade nudged Chance’s hand vehemently.

 

The gambler sighed, running his spare hand through his unkempt hair. “Probably,” they mumbled, before turning their attention to Spade. “Not sure when you last ate, huh, girl?”

 

“Elliot’s makin’ breakfast now,” Builderman supplied, looking back towards the kitchen. Sure enough, the sound of rushing footsteps back and forth could be heard coming from the other room.

 

Chance let out a relieved breath, standing up and adjusting their grip on Spade. “Guess I’ll see what’s up, then,” he hummed, smiling as he made his way into the kitchen. 

 

Elliot seemed incredibly occupied as they entered, holding a sizzling frying pan over the stove with one hand while also opening a cardboard box of waffles with the other. As per usual. 

 

He didn’t seem to hear Chance approaching, which is probably why the sudden sound of footsteps beside him was enough to make him jump. His hand nearly dropped the pan as his head swiveled towards the gambler.

 

“Telamon, Chance! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” Elliot breathed out, body slowly relaxing at the sight of a familiar face. “I nearly hit you with this pan!” 

 

Chance just chuckled, Spade squirming in their grasp yet again. Her nose twitched in the direction of the food, trying to reach her head as close to it as possible.

 

“Sorry, pal,” Chance said, smiling as he placed Spade on the ground. The rabbit immediately scampered closer to Elliot, sitting down as she took in the scent of the food.

 

Elliot softly cursed under his breath, placing the pan onto the stove as he managed to open the prepackaged waffle package.

 

“So,” Chance started, eyeing the eggs scrambling in the pan. “I take it the waffles are for Shed?”

 

Elliot hummed. “Yeah. You know he doesn’t eat eggs,” he said, struggling with the wrapper for a few moments.

 

“Need any help?” They asked, raising an eyebrow at the weak attempts at tearing open the plastic. 

 

“It’s… fine,” Elliot shot back, giving him a smile as he continued to try and fail at opening the packaging. All the while, Spade pawed at the man’s leg in a silent plea, probably requesting the eggs cooking on the stove.

 

Chance looked over at the pan before turning back to Elliot. Slowly, he put a hand on the package, tugging it down from the man’s grip.

 

With a sigh, Elliot reluctantly let go, turning back towards the stove. It was kinda scary how quick he was to drop it given how Elliot typically was when it came to working in the kitchen alone.

 

“Uh… you good?” Chance asked concernedly, managing to rip open the plastic with one quick motion and place it back down on the counter. “You seem in a mood.”

 

Elliot bit his bottom lip, moving to open one of the cabinets and grab out a stack of plates.

 

“Yeah, I guess,” he murmured, “sorry. I just.. didn’t sleep well last night. Two Time was up all night doing some weird ritual thing. You know how they are.”

 

Chance hummed in understanding. It was safe to say they all knew how Two Time was, not that it was their fault or anything.

 

“I getcha,” Chance said sympathetically, “musta been bad if you’ve resorted to microwavable waffles.”

 

Elliot groaned, placing the plates down on the counter and grabbing the frying pan again. “You have no idea,” he grumbled, “it’s not like there’s much time left to cook real ones anyway.”

 

Chance just nodded, choosing to grab out two of the waffles and plate them, throwing them into the microwave. They might as well do something useful rather than standing here.

 

As Elliot took the frying pan off the stove and started sectioning off the scrambled eggs amongst the nine plates, Spade started to insistently nudge his leg. It wasn’t until Elliot started taking some of the plates over to the long table that the rabbit tugged on his pants, nearly causing him to trip.

 

“Wh- Spade. No,” he told her firmly, catching his balance. 

 

It was enough to grab Chance’s attention as they turned around and glanced at the rabbit. “Spade..” they trailed off, “don’t forget your manners.”

 

The rabbit sat down, ears flopping to the side slightly as she tilted her head at him.

 

“That’s what I thought,” Chance remarked satisfactorily, “I’ll getcha somethin’ to eat. I know you’re hungry.”

 

Spade seemed to perk up at the mention of food, causing the gambler to chuckle as she padded over towards him.

 

Chance opened up the fridge, squinting as he took in the sight of all the food left astrayed. He hummed in consideration, seeing if there was anything of potential interest for the rabbit.

 

“Here we go,” he muttered to himself, grabbing a bundle of carrots from the back of the fridge. “Jackpot.”

 

“Don’t forget to wash those!” Elliot called from where he stood by the table, not even looking up as he continued distributing plates. Chance shuddered. The man’s sixth sense when it came to his kitchen was no joke.

 

With a mock salute, Chance turned towards the sink, immediately turning the water on. As he washed one of the carrots, he could hear the impatient thumping of Spade’s food against the hardwood floor.

 

“Ok, ok, ok,” they mumbled, shaking their head. They quickly broke off a small piece of the now washed carrot and knelt down to offer it to Spade.

 

“There you go, princess,” Chance mocked softly, watching as Spade started nibbling on the carrot with no hesitation whatsoever. 

 

With a scoff, they turned back towards Elliot, who was brushing his hands off against his apron. He grabbed the frying pan and placed it into the sink, finally finished with setting the table.

 

Just then, the microwave dinged. Chance and Elliot’s hands both moved to open it at the same time, brushing against each other on the way. 

 

“Shoot, sorry,” Chance quickly rushed out, hand falling down to his side as his eyes widened. Elliot just blinked at him for a moment, before smiling.

 

“Pretty sure that was my bad, but whatever,” he eventually replied, opening the microwave and grabbing the plate. Sure enough, the waffles were finished, looking practically the same as before they were put in in the first place.

 

With the final plate done, Elliot moved to place it onto the table. “Can you let everyone know food’s ready?” He asked.

 

Chance perked up a bit at that, pushing down the strange warmth in his chest from the earlier interaction and moving towards the doorway.

 

“Hey!” They called out, “breakfast is ready!”

 

He couldn’t help but smile contently as he turned around, catching Spade in the corner of his vision. Somehow, the rabbit had managed to climb onto one of the chairs and was attempting to scamper onto the table.

 

“Spade, no ma’am!” Chance quickly yelled, rushing to whisk her off the chair. The rabbit nipped at their hand in return, but they were used to it by now.

 

“What happened to manners?” He chastised, her ears pinned to the back of her head.

 

The gambler could make out Elliot snickering to himself where he washed his hands by the sink, watching the interaction from a distance.

 

Chance narrowed his eyes at Spade, not turning around. “Now you’re making me look bad,” he muttered lowly, just enough for her to hear. The rabbit didn’t make any reaction, just blinked up at them.

 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Chance finally said, plopping her back down on the floor and making their way to the table. 

 

The others seemed to start gathering in the room shortly after, taking their own seats at the table and starting to eat. Shedletsky especially seemed thrilled by the sight of his waffles awaiting him.

 

With a sigh, Chance sat down in his chair, keeping a close eye on Spade while he ate. It wasn’t long before a light chatter had broken out, one they only had half a mind to pay attention to. What they did notice was Two Time’s skittish expression, constantly looking over to where Spade was laying on the floor. Clearly, they were still convinced she was some evil creature, or something. 007n7 was also absent, but that wasn’t a strange occurrence.

 

“Y’know, Chance,” Shedletsky suddenly said, speaking through a mouthful of food. “I’ve never seen you without your usual get up.”

 

Chance blinked a few times, before letting out a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as the realization hit him. He kinda had forgotten their shades and fedora were still missing, honestly. All that time spent with Elliot and his face had been completely vulnerable, wonderful.

 

“I just woke up,” they said in response, frowning slightly. 

 

“I can see that,” Shedletsky shot back, eyeing his pajamas as he took another bite of his waffle.

 

“Har har,” Chance quipped sarcastically, rolling their eyes. “Sorry I wanted to be well rested.” 

 

He took a few more bites of his eggs, looking back to where Spade had been prior. And, of course, the rabbit was nowhere to be found. 

 

Chance cursed under his breath, pushing his chair back as he stood up. “Gimme a sec,” they mumbled, quickly walking into the other room. He should’ve known better than to take his gaze off of her.

 

When the gambler didn’t spot Spade’s signature black fur in the living room, they swiftly made their way up the stairs instead. He wasn’t sure if it was possible for Spade to make it upstairs that fast, but if any bunny could, it’d be her. 

 

And, sure enough, a flash of black caught the corner of his eye. Spade sat by one of the beanbags, but she wasn’t alone. She was accompanied by another man on the beanbag: 007n7.

 

Chance paused mid stride, catching the attention of the older man. He quickly turned around, just as Spade’s ears perked up and she jumped off 007n7’s lap.

 

“Oh, Chance!” The man called out, sounding caught off guard. “Sorry, I didn’t mean keep your rabbit from you.”

 

“Nah, it’s fine, Seven,” the gambler dismissed quickly, kneeling down to Spade’s level as she sat by his feet. “Breakfast is ready, ya know.”

 

Seven hummed in response, glancing away. “I heard, yeah,” he mumbled, “I’ll grab it when everyone else clears out. Don’t wanna be a bother.”

 

Chance raised an eyebrow, pausing for a moment. “Worried about Elliot?” He eventually asked sympathetically. It was clear to every survivor here that the two had some history, especially with how often the pizza man ranted about it to Chance. The tension during rounds was usually thick enough you could cut it with Elliot’s pizza cutter.

 

“It’s fine,” Seven dismissed, “I’ll be down to grab it in a bit.”

 

The gambler sat there, taking in his words. He wasn’t good at emotion stuff, but even he could tell something was off. That wasn’t really his expertise, though. 

 

“Why don’t you stay with Spade, hm?” Chance offered instead, “she’d like the company. Don’t want her trying to steal food from the table anyways.”

 

“Are- Are you sure?” Seven asked hesitantly.

 

”Of course!” Chance chirped back, “she loves new people. Especially if they give her attention.”

 

That seemed to get a more genuine smile to form on Seven’s face. “I guess if it’s okay with you..”

 

Chance just nodded, nudging the rabbit towards the man as they stood back up. “‘Course. Might as well, right?”

 

Spade seemed to take the hint, padding towards 007n7 and jumping back onto the man’s lap. Chance heard him say a soft thank you in response as they turned around to walk back downstairs.

 

They didn’t get far, though. About halfway down the steps, a sudden ringing started in his ears. His gut twisted with the familiar nausea that came with the start of a round, vision starting to darken. Chance squeezed his eyes shut as the tinnitus grew louder—

 

—When he reopened his eyes, he was in the corner of a bright red carnival by himself. Just as his luck would have it, the round started before he could even finish his breakfast. How wonderful.

 

As hungry as they might be, it didn’t stop Chance from finding his coin in his suit pocket (which he had been magically changed into, along with his shades and fedora) and starting to flip absentmindedly.

 

It was gonna be a long round.

Notes:

ummm i ran out of ideas for the end whoops

for those wondering, we’re gonna just pretend the room with the stage next to the living room has a kitchen in it too. okay? okay.

i wrote this half-asleep so ignore any weird errors. ill fix it in the morning.

also, mellodramaa’s “is it just me or are they… you know” inspired the room assignments. i love the idea of taph and chance rooming and elliot and two time, so I’m stealing that headcanon 🤩

please comment!!! they make me write so much faster!!

Chapter 3: first round

Summary:

chance has a surprisingly good time! and the others may or may not be noticing..

As luck would have it, Chance was not having a great round. 

 

He would’ve thought that reuniting with Spade would start turning his luck around, but nope. Oh, how wrong he was.

 

Currently, Chance was hiding in a corner of the map, sitting underneath a taunting EXIT sign. He was nursing a large wound across his abdomen that was still sluggishly bleeding, which would’ve been very avoidable if not for his unreliable gun that just happened to not go off when it mattered most, ending with C00lkid’s sword impaling his chest instead. All because his stupid gun wouldn’t fire!

 

With a grunt, Chance withdrew his coin back out of his suit pocket, his shaky fingers smearing blood over the metal. He didn’t hesitate to start flipping his coin aimlessly, wincing with every heavy breath that rattled out of his chest.

 

Tails.

 

Tails.

 

Tails.

 

Tails again.

 

Telamon, they were sick of this. If they were gonna bleed out, they at least wanted to be of some use in the process.

 

Chance had also yet to find any medkits this round, and Elliot was seemingly occupied dealing with the other survivors. Even better!

 

Fine! He would just go find someone else then! 

 

Groaning, Chance forced himself to sit up straighter, wincing as their wound shifted. He flipped his coin a few more times as he weakly got to his legs, nearly toppling over the wooden wall he’d been leaning on. This was a stupid decision, probably, but Chance was nothing but a high roller at the end of the day!

 

With shaky legs, he slowly limped out of his hiding spot, one hand resting on his flintlock and the other still flipping his coin. With every tails he landed on, he felt the weakness in his body grow, turning his already numb arms into heavy weights he had to carry. It didn’t help that every step they took sent a pang of pain shooting through their chest. Yeah, this was definitely a stupid decision.

 

Chance wasn’t really sure where he was walking, in all honesty. Probably something he should’ve considered before he started going right towards the danger, but oh well. All he needed to do was find Elliot, or anyone, really. Preferably someone with a medkit.

 

They didn’t find any of those things, obviously. Instead, a shrill giggle met his ears instead. C00lkid must be nearby, while Chance remained clear out in the open. Wonderful.

 

Cursing under his breath, the gambler limped to the closest wall he could find, praying to Lady Luck to just give him one goddamn heads as he started shakily flipping his coin.

 

Tails.

 

Tails.

 

Tails.

 

Heads.

 

Jackpot!

 

Letting out a ragged breath, he leaned forward to look around the wall, grabbing his gun out of his holster and holding it up with trembling, bloody hands. As he looked throughout the carnival clearing, he realized it was distinctly empty. No other survivors in his view, but that shouldn’t surprise him. What did was the lack of a fleshy, red killer running about.

 

Chance narrowed his eyes, adjusting his grip on the gun. Maybe the kid had just run past him?

 

“PEEK-A-BOO!” 

 

The gambler barely had time to turn and raise his gun before another hand was grabbing his wrist and pulling, causing him to tumble to the side and miss C00lkid’s claws by mere inches.

 

“NO FAIR!” The kid whined, his body crashing into the side of the wall where Chance had just been.

 

“C’mon, let’s go!” The other voice urged him, pulling them to their feet. Once he felt like his head was back on straight and not swirling around with pain, he realized it was Elliot dragging him along.

 

It didn’t take long for the pizza man to whisk him to the other side of the map, hiding them both by the ticket-selling booth. Chance leaned against the wall, wincing as he jostled his bleeding abdomen. The wound very much did not take kindly to being pulled to the ground, if the pain had anything to show for it.

 

“Telamon, Chance, I was looking all over for you!” Elliot exclaimed exasperatingly, still out of breath as he grabbed his pizza box from his brown satchel.

 

“Heh, took you long enough,” Chance mumbled back, offering a lopsided smile. It didn’t take long for Elliot to push a slice of pizza towards him in response.

 

“Eat,” he ordered firmly, putting the box away. Chance shuddered. Sometimes, they forgot how scary Elliot could be in times like these.

 

The gambler didn’t protest, though, grabbing the slice with his spare hand and starting to eat. It took only a few bites before he felt his wound closing up, letting out a relieved sigh as the skin stitched itself back together.

 

It took only a few more bites to realize that he had been holding his coin in his spare hand mere moments ago.

 

“Shit..” Chance trailed off, groaning as he leaned his head back against the wall. “Think I dropped m’ coin.”

 

Elliot hummed, moving to stand beside him. “Yikes,” he winced in sympathy. “How many charges do you have left?”

 

Chance examined his gun, brow furrowing. “Just one,” he sighed, “it’s doable.”

 

Elliot raised an eyebrow in response. “Was it doable when it exploded on you the last time?”

 

“Wh- hey!” Chance sputtered. “It did not blow up on me earlier, thank you very much!”

 

The other man laughed softly, nudging his shoulder playfully. “You wanna explain why your guts were spilling out of you then?

 

“They were not,” Chance frowned, much to Elliot’s amusement. “If you must know, this hunk-a junk didn’t shoot.”

 

“Ah,” the blonde mused, smiling, “should've seen that one coming, I guess.”

 

Chance found himself smiling back at Elliot against himself, noticing the brief sparkle in the others' eyes. There was a moment of silence as they looked at each other, before the gambler huffed, forcing his poker face back on.

 

“How much time do we have left anyway?” They asked, their usual smirk plastered on their face.

 

Elliot hummed, looking down at his watch. “10 minutes-ish,” he replied.

 

Chance nodded, starting to play with his gun absentmindedly. Their thumb flicked the safety on and off, something to busy their hands with in the meantime. It wasn’t the same as flipping their coin, but it’d have to do.

 

Elliot just eyed them suspiciously. “Is that safe?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Eh, it’s fine,” Chance said, voice trailing off. “I know what I’m doing.”

 

“Uh huh…” Elliot mumbled slowly. “That’s a comforting thought,” he added sarcastically.

 

The gambler chuckled under their breath. “Seriously!” He exclaimed back. “Just an unlucky day, ya know?”

 

“Sure,” Elliot said, eyes narrowing at them.

 

Chance just huffed in response, standing up from the wall and stretching his arms over his head. “Guess I should see what’s up with the others, hm?”

 

“With only one charge?” Elliot shot back incredulously, not moving from where he stood.

 

“‘S not like I have my coin left to help me,” they said, shrugging.

 

“That’s not the point,” the pizza man said with a sigh. “You‘ve gotta stop shooting on one charge, Chance.”

 

The gambler rolled their eyes, the usual normalcy of their banter causing them to smile. “And where’s the fun in that? C’mon,” he smirked, “you know I’m all about taking risks.”

 

“If you call dying each round fun,” Elliot retorted sarcastically, “unless you find the sooty face look appealing.”

 

Chance rolled his eyes, a more genuine smile stretching across his face. “You worry too much,” he teased back. “I can take care of myself, y’know.”

 

“Is that why I found you actively bleeding out and nearly collapsed?” Elliot said, raising an eyebrow with a good-natured smile. “You really should learn your lesson one of these days.”

 

The gambler chuckled weakly. “Alright, alright. Maybe I was being a little reckless,” he conceded sheepishly, unable to stop himself from smiling at the look on Elliot’s face.

 

“Can’t help it," he added with a shrug.

 

Elliot rolled his eyes. “A little is generous,” he retorted. Before he could finish his thought, his body suddenly tensed, standing up a little straighter as he leaned over to look back towards the clearing.

 

“What’s up?” Chance asked, though he already had a bit of an idea. Elliot always had a hunch when others got injured; it was part of his ability or something.

 

“Someone’s being chased,” Elliot mumbled in return, looking down at his clock for a moment.

 

“Alrighty, guess we’ll be going, then,” the gambler said, smirking as he twirled his flintlock around his finger.

 

Elliot sighed, shaking his head almost fondly. “Please do not shoot that thing unless you absolutely have to. I won’t be able to heal two of you,” he said more sincerely.

 

“Relax, Elli, you don’t even know it’ll explode!” Chance remarked with his usual smirk.

 

The pizza man didn’t respond, giving him a tired look instead before turning back towards the clearing. “Fine, let’s go.”

 

With a smile at his success, Chance followed Elliot as he navigated around some of the other buildings, keeping to the sides of the map as they grew closer to the commotion.

 

Distantly, Chance could make out the sound of C00lkid singing cheerfully to himself as he presumably chased another survivor, his loud footsteps echoing off the walls.

 

The two remained quiet as they closed in, but Chance didn’t take his finger off the trigger, holding it firmly by their side.

 

As they got closer, it was easier to make out the familiar sight of black robes and flashing gold accents. Taph, and the demolitionist was defenseless against the fleshy creature. 

 

Chance blinked out of his thoughts before realizing that Elliot had run ahead without him. It was clear he was trying to pull Taph out of C00lkid’s sight to heal them, but the chase was looking a bit too close for comfort. It would be so much easier if he could just shoot the killer right now…

 

The gambler cursed under his breath, raising his gun with his left hand. Elliot would kill him if he did this, if the gun didn’t finish him off first, but there was no other way the other man would be able to whisk Taph away without either of them getting hit. Plus, if Elliot didn’t get there in time, the demolitionist would just die anyway. It was kinda the only option.

 

Lining up his shot, Chance closed one eye behind his shades, finger ghosting over the trigger.

 

Wait for it…

 

Taph ducked into the large green house, running just out of Chance’s sight as Elliot ran around the other side. C00lkid followed the demolitionist closely, disappearing from their view.

 

Wait…

 

“Taph!” Elliot called out, throwing a pizza in their direction. The cloaked man managed to outstretch an arm and grab the slice, offering a quick thumbs up as they turned another corner.

 

Chance took a step to the side, just enough to see C00lkid start charging forward, sword in hand as he leapt towards the demolitionist.

 

Holding his breath, the gambler pressed down on the trigger. It felt like hours passed as they awaited their gun’s response. And then—

 

BANG!

 

The shot fired off, finding its mark right in C00lkid’s shoulder. The kid let out a pained whine, yelling something Chance couldn’t hear through the blood rushing in their ears.

 

“Jackpot!” He whooped in victory, watching as Elliot managed to whisk Taph away and out of the killer’s line of sight. They didn’t have time to contemplate how the pizza man would respond to his recklessness before C00lkid was recovering and turning towards them instead. Uh oh.

 

Chance cursed under his breath, pocketing his gun as he turned heel and ran, trying to gain as much distance from the killer as possible. If their math was right, there should only be five minutes or so left on the clock. That was fine, that was totally doable!

 

He took a moment to hide in another one of the houses, catching his breath. After a moment, he turned the corner to check if it was clear when a brick suddenly whizzed past him from behind, thunking against his shoulder and sending a rush of pain through it. 

 

“HI THERE, HAT MAN!” The kid chirped. “ARE WE PLAYING HIDE AND SEEK AGAIN?”

 

Chance’s eyes widened as he quickly turned and started running the other way, wincing at the pain in his shoulder after each stride. Their hand instinctively went to their pocket to grab their coin, just to come up empty as the realization hit them again. Shit. Right.

 

“I’LL BE SEEKER!” C00lkid’s voice rang out, echoing through the map as he started gaining on Chance. 

 

Okay, okay, this was still doable! He just had to lose the kid somehow. There was barely any time left anyway!

 

With a huff, Chance rounded a wall, looking up to the large Ferris wheel in front of him. They managed to make out one of Builderman’s turrets, and standing beside it was Guest and the admin himself, who seemed to be forcing the soldier to rest by the health dispenser.

 

It didn’t take long for Guest to notice Chance’s little predicament, however. By then, the gambler had already formulated a plan: run to the turret, use it as his opening to escape, and be covered by Guest. Easy!

 

So, that’s exactly what he did, running up to the Ferris wheel with heavy breaths. Sure enough, C00lkid was hot on his tail, but was quickly slowed down by the bullets suddenly ricocheting off his skin.

 

“HEY! NO FAIR!!!” He whined, punching forward in frustration.

 

Guest took this as his opportunity, running in front of Chance with his arms up to block the punch, before winding up his arm and hitting C00lkid right back.

 

“Let’s go!” The older man ordered, hopping off the platform alongside Chance and Builderman, the killer’s whines slowly growing distant.

 

The gambler winced at the thrumming in their shoulder as they rested against a wall, Guest constantly checking their surroundings in the meantime. “We’re clear,” he told them firmly, turning back around.

 

Chance let out a sigh of relief. “Nice punch, boss,” he quipped tiredly, wincing as he rolled his injured shoulder. “You look like you broke the kid’s nose with that one- Does he even have a nose?”

 

Guest just huffed gruffly in response, turning to look at the gambler’s shoulder instead. 

 

“That looks dislocated,” the blue-haired man said, some of the previous tension leaving their body.

 

Builderman’s brow furrowed at the sight. “Ya think a dispenser would heal ‘em up?”

 

Guest pressed his lips together, shaking his head. “No idea,” he said in response, “but it might be safer to just pop it back in.”

 

Chance opened his mouth, but no words escaped as he rapidly shook his head. “Woah, now! Round’s almost done! We don’t gotta do anything drastic, right, guys?” He said, chuckling nervously.

 

Builderman and Guest shared a look before the soldier turned back towards him. “It won’t take long,” he supplied, “and we don’t know if C00lkid will be back anytime soon.”

 

The gambler forced himself to keep smiling despite the words. For how often he was killed, exploded, or stabbed, the prospect of popping in his dislocated shoulder scared him a little more than he’d like to admit, but it didn’t seem like he’d be getting out of this one.

 

“Fine, fine, just get it over with,” Chance gritted out, waving them off as he mentally braced himself.

 

Guest gently put his hands on their shoulders, feeling around. “Alright, ready?” 

 

Chance opened their mouth to respond with a small “yes”, but yelped as they were cut off by a sudden movement of hands and a sting of pain in their shoulder.

 

“What the hell, man!” The gambler exclaimed, nearly jumping from the shock.

 

“All done,” Guest responded with an accomplished smile, taking a step back.

 

Chance hissed, testing out his shoulder by rolling it a few times. “That hurt,” he whined.

 

Builderman chuckled under his breath. “How’d ya even manage to dislocate that, kid?”

 

The gambler forced himself to put his mask back on, covering up the surprise on his face. “Stupid brick hit me,” he mumbled. “I forgot that the kid can aim.”

 

With a sigh, Chance straightened his posture, adjusting the fedora on his head. “Did any of you guys see Elliot? We got split up when he was saving Taph,” he asked instead.

 

Guest shook his head apologetically. “Sorry, I saw just about as much as you,” the soldier answered sympathetically.

 

Chance sighed, stretching their arms over their head. “Guess I’ll go find ‘em myself. Better Elliot rats me out now than later, yeah?” With that, they offered a faux salute to the two before turning around and running in the opposite direction. If he heard Builderman chastising him for his recklessness in the distance, he ignored it. 

 

And, okay, maybe Chance lied about wanting to go find Elliot. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see the delivery man; it was more so that he kinda, maybe possibly wanted to find his coin instead. 

 

So, the gambler found himself at the same wall he’d been at earlier, most likely making himself look like an absolute fool as he examined the ground. He was just about to get on the ground to look for it when a sudden flash of reflected light caught the corner of his eye. Jackpot.

 

Sure enough, there was his lucky coin, sitting right where he had dropped it. Picking it up, he greedily started flipping it immediately, relishing in the familiar comfort it brought.

 

Tails.

 

Heads.

 

Heads.

 

Tails.

 

Tails.

 

It didn’t really matter the result he got, not now at least. The round would be over shortly anyway. Now, they just flipped it for the sake of it. 

 

Chance leaned against the nearby wall, letting it spin in the air over, and over, and over, the rest of the world forgotten around him. It wasn’t long before a familiar tinnitus entered his ears, drowning out any other sounds or thoughts he’d had. His vision swam, almost causing him to drop his coin as it began to darken, pulling him under the wave of unconsciousness. When they eventually reopened their eyes, it was to the sight of a wooden table in front of them and the other survivors around them.

 

He barely got the time to readapt to his new surroundings before a soft thumping made itself known, followed by a flash of black running in his direction. The next thing he knew, Spade hopped up with her powerful legs, barreling right towards Chance.

 

“Woah-!” Chance exclaimed, just as Spade’s fuzzy body collided against his chest. He instinctively used one arm to catch her while the other grabbed the side of the table to prevent them both from falling straight to the floor.

 

Spade’s excitement didn’t falter as she started to lick his chin affectionately, causing a soft laugh to escape the gambler.

 

“Looks like someone missed you,” Shedletsky teased from his spot at the table, kicking his legs up onto the wooden surface.

 

Chance couldn’t help but smile, lowering Spade slightly from his face. “Yeah, you think?” He shot back, turning his attention back to Spade. “Aw, didja miss me, girl?” 

 

The rabbit just squirmed in their grip, nudging their hand insistently.

 

“Ok, ok,” Chance breathed out, continuing to pet the spot in between her ears. It wasn’t until someone shifted in their seat to stand that it occurred to him that he was very much not alone. 

 

Cringing slightly, they looked up to see Guest getting to their feet next to them, patting him on the back. “Good work, everybody,” he praised, before turning into the living room. As Chance’s head swiveled back around to observe everyone staring right at him, he also noticed that none of them had died. That was at least a positive. It didn't stop them all from looking at him, though.

 

“What?” Chance deadpanned, blinking at them blankly. 

 

“Nothin’, kid,” Builderman replied, standing up alongside Shedletsky next to him.

 

Well, that wasn’t suspicious at all.

 

With a huff, Chance carefully plopped Spade back on the ground, who quickly jumped up in the air with a quick turn to show her joy.

 

Elliot let out a deep breath from his side of the table, pushing back his chair. “I guess I’ll start on lunch prep,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. 

 

“Take a break, man! You deserve it,” Shedletsky chirped in response. “I’ll just reheat more waffles if I need to!” With a content hum, he and Builderman started walking towards the living room as well, leaving Elliot to gag at the prospect (whether it was at Shedletsky's response or the two of them together, it was unclear).

 

“I don’t know how he stomachs those,” the man shuddered, “they’re scary to even look at.”

 

Chance let out a laugh at that, stretching out his legs. “Not up to your health code?” They quipped in response.

 

Elliot gave him a lopsided smile. “You could say that.”

 

“It looked to me like Shedletsky very much enjoyed them,” Taph signed from their seat at the table, Dusekkar beside them. 

 

“Yeah, well, his diet consists of reheated fried chicken most of the time anyway,” Elliot joked dryly, cracking his knuckles. “What are you guys feeling like in terms of real food?”

 

“Pick whatever option you’d like, as we know you are equipped to serve it right,” Dusekkar told him with a smile. Taph nodded in response.

 

“Yeah, fine with me!” Chance agreed.

 

“Same here,” Noob added more timidly, smiling nonetheless.

 

The only ones at the table who had yet to give a response were Two Time and 007n7, but the latter seemed to have disappeared to the main room at some point in the conversation. Strange, but not unusual.

 

Two Time didn’t speak, however, choosing to instead glare daggers at Spade sitting on the floor.

 

“I propose we dispose of the creature,” they countered hollowly.

 

Chance just frowned, shaking their head. “We are not eating Spade. She’s a lovely rabbit,” he fired back.

 

“The Spawn denounces demonic entities,” Two Time responded, their manic smile slipping ever so slightly.

 

“Sorry, bud, but I don’t think she’s a demon,” the gambler said with a lighthearted shrug.

 

“A vermin of her size is not possible! It is not realistic! Only a demon creature would have such a property!” Two Time chastised, like their words were agreeably correct.

 

Chance couldn’t help but cackle at that, leaning back against their chair. “You’re insulting my rabbit now? Not cool, man!” He laughed. These were the exchanges he thrived on, if he ignored the strange chill that overcame him when he thought about them for too long. I just wish you'd put a leash on them, Chancey-

 

Two Time seemed flustered at the response, standing up from their chair. “I do not see what is funny, gambler. Your ‘pet’ could potentially be a demon, and you are laughing.”

 

This time, Chance barely managed to hold back a laugh, choosing to adjust their shades instead. “No, no, of course,” he replied with a wobbly smile. “But I promise you Spade is entirely harmless, see?” 

 

The gambler quickly scooped the rabbit up, who squirmed in their grip. Two Time just continued to glare into her beady little eyes.

 

“She bit me yesterday,” the cultist responded, narrowing their eyes. “That does not seem harmless to me.”

 

Elliot sighed, placing his hands on the table. “Two Time, have you ever even seen a rabbit before?” He asked.

 

“Why, of course, pizza man!” They chimed. “We used to hunt them for food and sport!”

 

Spade whimpered softly in his grasp, ears flattening to the back of her head as if she somehow understood their words.

 

“Could you maybe, like… not hunt my pet for fun? Please and thank you?” Chance said back, holding Spade a bit closer to him.

 

Two Time just hummed, smile widening. “No promises, gambler,” they replied, winking. “I am under the command of the Spawn and can’t, in good faith, let a demon live! However…”

 

They stood up from their chair, walking closer to Chance as Spade flattened herself closer to his chest.

 

“I will believe your words for now,” they said cheerfully, smiling. “As long as your word stays truthful, we will have no problem!” 

 

Chance let out a relieved sigh, shoulders falling. “Thanks, Time, ‘preciate it.”

 

“Of course, gambler!” They chimed. “I will be off now!” With that, Two Time slunk away into the other room.

 

With a sigh, Chance turned back towards the table, plopping Spade down on the wooden surface. At some point during the conversation, Noob and Dusekkar seemed to have left as well, leaving Taph by themselves. The demolitionist was still tinkering with one of their tripmines in their seat. 

 

He exchanged a quick look with Elliot, who just shrugged as he turned toward to kitchen. Typical of him, Chance thought, to not rest after the round. He shouldn’t be surprised.

 

Meanwhile, Spade had padded closer to Taph’s side of the table, nose twitching as they approached the tripmine cautiously. Her ears were slanted forward curiously, hind legs stretched out behind her as she crept along the table. One step closer and she'd be-

 

“Spade!” They yelled out quickly, noticing just in time. Taph seemed to startle at his voice alongside Spade, who jumped up slightly in the air with her ears stiffening straight into the air. 

 

The rabbit froze in place upon landing, hunched in a position indicating slight fear, probably at their louder tone. Taph also seemed relatively spooked, hands stilling in the air with trepidation. Chance winced at the sight.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” he quickly apologized, standing up and scooping Spade up into his arms. “Just… maybe no bombs where the rabbit can reach ‘em?”

 

Taph nodded in understanding. “Sorry. I will be more careful with them,” they signed back, grabbing the tripmine and standing up, robes swishing against the floor.

 

“Thanks, man,” Chance breathed out in relief. “Sorry about earlier, didn’t mean to yell.”

 

The demolitionist offered him a thumbs-up, nodding in silent understanding as they exited the room.

 

With a sigh, Chance turned Spade around in their grip to look at her face. “No more touching cool-lookin’ glowy things, okay?” They chastised quietly. Spade just licked his nose in response.

 

“Great, we’re agreed,” he said with a flat smile, finally putting her back down on the ground. 

 

Now, it was only him and Elliot in the room. This seemed to have become a repeating thing by now.

 

Slowly, Chance approached the other man, making sure not to spook him this time. Spade followed in his footsteps, eventually hopping over to Elliot and nudging his leg in greeting.

 

“Need anything?” The gambler offered, leaning against the counter beside him.

 

Elliot just smiled, turning back to him. “You’re doing this again?”

 

“Doing what?” Chance responded cluelessly, tilting their head.

 

“Trying to help in the kitchen,” Elliot explained, “even though you are like… the worst cook I’ve ever met.”

 

The gambler gave him a look of faux offense. “I’m not that bad!” They stressed.

 

Elliot just raised an eyebrow at him. “You literally almost blew up the microwave when you thought it was a good idea to leave a fork in there,” he countered.

 

Chance scoffed, waving him off. “How was I supposed to know that was a bad thing! It worked for me all the time!”

 

“I- what !?” Elliot sputtered, eyes widening into a shocked expression. “You mean to tell me you put metal spoons in the microwave and nothing happened?!” 

 

“They weren’t always metal!” Chance fired back. “Sometimes they were plastic!”

 

The pizza man cursed under his breath, rubbing at his temple. “Sometimes-!? Literally how did you not die-?”

 

Chance’s grin faltered slightly at that, but he quickly forced it back into position as he straightened his posture. “What can I say? I’m a lucky guy.” He always had been.

 

Elliot still seemed thoroughly unimpressed, shaking his head. “I have no idea how you didn’t manage to somehow kill yourself before you got here,” he teased fondly. Oh, if only he knew.

 

“It’s my specialty,” the gambler said with a shrug, smirking despite the hollow feeling growing in their chest. 

 

“So,” Chance pivoted, taking his coin out of his suit pocket and starting to flip it as a distraction, “if you aren’t gonna let me help, you might as well take a break yourself.”

 

Elliot seemed to hum thoughtfully at the idea, leaning back against the oven. “The food isn’t gonna cook itself, y’know.”

 

Chance just shrugged in response. “Eh, it can wait. Trust me,” they replied with a smile.

 

Spade seemed to take this as her chance to enter the conversation, hopping up slightly to tug on the apron Elliot had put on moments prior. He chuckled softly, shaking his head fondly.

 

“Ok, ok, fine. We can take a break,” Elliot folded, taking the apron off around his neck and hanging it up on the wall.

 

Chance flashed him a bright smile in return. “There you go, that’s the spirit!” They nudged his shoulder playfully as they started to walk to the main room, Spade and Elliot following in his trail.

 

“And what do you suppose we do?” Elliot asked questionably, watching Spade hop in between his legs.

 

“Darts? Poker? Pool?” Chance listed without hesitation, walking past the other survivors and towards the stairs to the upper level. 

 

“Don’t we have board games or something?” Elliot added, following behind the gambler.

 

“Eh, if you wanna get some more people to play with us, I guess,” Chance answered with a shrug, walking over to the pool table as they continued to flip their coin.

 

Elliot shook his head. “They’re probably all tired. I don’t wanna interrupt them,” he replied softly.

 

Chance shrugged again. “Fine with me!” He shot back, walking over to the lockers instead. “Up to a game of 5-card draw?”

 

“Uh,” Elliot blanked, blinking at him with a lost expression, “you’re gonna have to explain whatever the hell that game is, but sure!” 

 

The gambler chuckled, a bright smile lighting up their face. He grabbed the deck of cards and took them out of the package, absentmindedly shuffling them as he sat down at the small circular table. Elliot followed suit, adjusting to get comfortable as Spade hopped onto his lap.

 

Chance couldn’t help but watch fondly as Elliot let out a quiet laugh, petting the rabbit with gentle strokes.

 

“I think she likes you,” he said, tone taking on a more genuine sincerity. 

 

“Aww, she likes you!”

 

He shook the memory out of his head, watching as Elliot let out another soft laugh.

 

“That’s good,” he replied with a happy sigh, smiling as he let Spade curl up in his lap.

 

There was a brief moment of silence. Not the tense kind, but one that was so incredibly warm. So domestic it almost hurt.

 

Chance just hummed mindlessly, a smile dancing on his lips as he enjoyed the moment for as long as he possibly could. He’d be content to stay here forever, honestly. He supposed he already sorta was.

 

With a soft exhale, the gambler moved to continue shuffling the cards, drawing out two cards for both of them.

 

“Alright, ready?” He prompted, placing the deck in the center of the table.

 

“Yep,” Elliot responded, popping the ‘p’ as he grabbed his two cards. Chance watched Spade nuzzle the man’s spare hand, causing Elliot to laugh again–a warm sound that rang harmoniously in Chance’s ears. The smile that lit up the man’s face, brighter than the dull lights hanging from the ceiling. It was mesmerizing.

Yeah, Chance thought to himself. He could get used to this.

Notes:

eeee i love them so bad urghvjebvudjkcn

he's downbad and he doesn't even REALIZE IT YET... but he will, mark my words.

spade is very much so inspired by my own dog, but as a rabbit. she gives me cuteness aggression and i love her. she also may or may not cause paycheck so there's that too

i literally sat down and wrote all of this in the span of 6 hours and it was so incredibly worth it. ignore any errors, i'm not fixing them rn hh,,

in fact, in the last 48 hours i have written a total of 11,000+ words. yay.

also if u catch the alpharad reference you are now my best friend

Chapter 4: icy memory

Summary:

remember how chance had a good time last chapter... yeah... it starts going downhill...

If Chance could trust anything to be consistent in this realm, it was that lunch was always chaotic as hell.

 

Maybe it was everyone’s way to work off the excess stress from the previous round, or maybe it was a way to ignore the stress of an upcoming one, but it was always crazy nonetheless.

 

Chance had grown to thrive in such chaotic environments, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t equally appreciate the silence that came after—those moments where they all retired to various areas in the main cabin, chatting and playing games. It was nice, he’d decided.

 

What wasn’t nice was that it was their turn on dish duty, meaning they were stuck scrubbing all the plates in the sink instead of getting to rest. Wonderful. 

 

It wasn’t all bad, though; at least they weren’t alone. Dish duty always came in pairs to “maximize efficiency” or whatever Elliot had said, meaning one person would wash and the other would dry. Today, it was Taph joining him in the kitchen.

 

Despite his flimsy sign language skills (that he only knew because Dusekkar insisted on teaching everybody), he quite enjoyed the demolitionist’s company. Then again, it was hard to sign and dry dishes at the same time, so it would be an awkwardly silent time instead. How great for him.

 

Chance hated chores duty enough, but doing it in near silence? It bored him out of his mind, but it wasn’t Taph’s fault he needed something to entertain him every second of the day. Blame it on the adrenaline addiction, or whatever.

 

Currently, they worked in quiet, efficient strides, Chance washing one dish before handing it off to Taph to dry and put away before repeating the process all over again. After a few moments, however, Taph finally broke the silence.

 

They put down a now-dried plate on the counter, leaning against it and looking up at Chance. “I never got to thank you for saving me last round,” they signed, slow enough for the gambler to comprehend.

 

After a moment, Chance just smirked, grabbing another dish to run under the faucet. “Don’t mention it! I’d be a bad teammate if I didn’t!” He chimed back.

 

Taph gave them a thumbs up, grabbing the clean plate from Chance’s hand to dry. 

 

“So,” Taph continued after a moment of silence, placing the dish down, “you and Elliot?”

 

Chance paused at that, hands stilling where they had grabbed another plate as his brow furrowed. “Whaddaya mean?” 

 

Taph just shrugged. “Nothing,” they signed back, “just overheard you guys talking earlier before the round.”

 

Chance let out a soft ‘oh’. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. The better question was how the hell Taph knew.

 

 “How did you even hear all that?” They asked instead, masking their slight surprise.

 

“I was sitting in the booth this morning when you walked in,” Taph explained, “and you also are not a very quiet person.”

 

The gambler opened his mouth to retort, but closed it with a soft shake of his head, flushing with embarrassment. 

 

“What about it?” He decided to say, going back to rinsing the next dish.

 

Taph put their hands up in mock surrender, rag still in hand. “I just noticed you guys were getting closer, that’s all.”

 

Chance narrowed his eyes below his shades. Was Taph trying to imply something here? 

 

“I don’t understand whatcha tryna say here, bud,” the gray-haired man hummed, though they were pretty sure they also knew exactly what the robed man was implying.

 

“Nevermind, don’t worry about it,” Taph signed hurriedly, placing another dry dish on the counter.

 

Yeah, okay, that wasn’t suspicious at all.

 

There was a beat before Taph’s shoulders dropped with a quiet sigh. “He was talking about you last round, by the way,” they sighed.

 

That got Chance’s attention, his ears immediately perking up. “Elliot? Really?” They asked a little too quickly.

 

Taph nodded in response. “Yeah. Was talking about how reckless you were being,” they signed.

 

Chance scoffed, handing Taph another freshly-washed plate. “Not surprised,” he laughed.

 

The two fell back into a peaceful silence after that, continuing to wash and dry the last few dishes as Chance tried not to think about what Taph had said.

 

Him and Elliot. Together. That’s what Taph had been implying. Just because they talked once or twice? (Chance ignored the fact that they had been "talking" for upwards of months now, since his arrival, probably.)

 

Against his better judgment, Chance swallowed, looking back over at Taph. “Did Elliot say anything else while you were with him?”

 

Taph put down the final dried dish on the counter, turning towards him. “Not really,” they signed, “he was just worried. He went to look for you at the end of the round, but I’m guessing he never found you.”

 

Chance blinked a few times. “Huh. Guess he didn’t,” they mumbled in response. He didn’t like the way his stomach seemed to flip slightly at the thought of the other man worried for him. Thinking about it too much caused an indescribable feeling to form in his gut, one he’s really only felt once before—

Chance’s head spun as he stumbled past crowds of people, unsure if it was because of the bright lights of the casino or the buzzing of alcohol under his skin. The distinct chatter of men around poker tables filled his senses as he looked around corners, taking in the distinct scenes of the casino. And yet, iTrapped was nowhere in sight. They had gotten separated earlier, right after the older man had bought him a drink. All Chance knew was that they had to find wherever iTrapped had disappeared to.

 

It didn’t take long to find the man’s tall ice crown, glinting under the artificial casino glow. He sat in the distance on one of the stools at the bar counter, an unclear look on his face, but he sure as hell didn’t look happy.

 

“‘Trap?” Chance called out, stumbling towards him. 

 

The blonde looked up just in time to see the gambler approaching, his eye twitching slightly as he sat straighter up.

 

“I was wondering where you went off to,” iTrapped mused, taking a sip of his drink.

 

Chance frowned. “You totally ditched me, man! I was the one lookin’ for you,” they whined back in response.

 

“Sorry, Chancey,” iTrapped hummed, his voice slick with that sweet, honey quality. Chance could probably get drunk off that tone alone.

 

“‘S fine, ‘Trap,” the gambler shrugged, words slightly slurred. They looked up at iTrapped’s pinched face again, frowning. “We can go get some fresh air if you wanna take a break?”

 

iTrapped’s mask seemed to slip slightly at that, the smallest hint of emotion bubbling to the surface. “Sure,” he huffed in response.

 

Slowly, the two started to move away from the bar, weaving through the crowded casino together. At some point, a gentle, cold hand had been placed on Chance's back, keeping him upright. He must’ve been stumbling at some point. The action was enough to cause his stomach to flip against his will.

 

Chance leaned instinctively into the contact, the cold sensation a brief reprieve from the warmth that was overwhelming their whole body. It was all that possessed their thoughts as iTrapped guided the two of them outside, pushing open the large doors to the outside world. The fresh air hit the gray-haired man like a truck, sobering him up just enough to recognize how oddly soft the other man’s touch was, especially when physical touch was something iTrapped rarely spared time for. They couldn’t help but smile almost giddily.

 

“Better?” Chance asked as they made their way outside.

 

iTrapped just hummed, stilling for a moment in thought before slowly moving his hand down. Chance hated the way he immediately missed the contact.

 

“Thanks, Chancey,” iTrapped murmured, just soft enough for them to hear, the smell of alcohol still lingering on his breath.

 

A bright smile spread across the gambler’s face as he let out a breath, butterflies in his stomach.

 

“Anytime.”

Shit.

 

That was bad. That was really bad.

 

He didn’t… like Elliot, did he? Like that?

 

Chance tried to think back on all of his previous interactions with the blonde, piecing together any possible time he might’ve felt the same way as he did that night.

 

Warm hands brushing barely against his, gentle hands fretting over his injuries, a shoulder bumping against his.

 

Fuck. 

 

He totally liked Elliot, didn’t he?

 

A poke to his shoulder spurred him out of his thoughts, causing him to flinch and nearly drop the plate he was holding. 

 

“Telamon, Taph-” they hissed, caught off guard.

 

The robed man gently took the plate from their hands, putting it on top of the stack on the counter.

 

“Sorry!” Taph signed quickly, clearly apologetic. “You were just standing there!”

 

Chance cursed under their breath, bringing a hand to their face to push their shades up and pinch the bridge of their nose. “No, no, it’s- it’s fine,” the gambler rushed out, shaking their head. “I was just thinkin’ about somethin’, don’t worry about it.”

 

Taph tilted their head, crossing their arms over their chest with an air of disbelief. “You looked upset,” they signed slowly.

 

“I’m fine,” Chance bit out, a hint of frustration slipping past his mask, “seriously, man.”

 

The demolitionist still seemed unamused at his answer, surely raising an eyebrow underneath their hood at his response. Chance huffed under their breath, forcing themselves to manually put their poker face back on. His head was spinning with an invasion of thoughts he refused to listen to, faint memories of icy touches causing a chill to run down his spine. 

 

All this conversation had done was force parallels into his mind that he would rather not think about. 

 

“Are you sure?” Taph signed back worriedly.

 

“Yeah,” Chance replied, a smile forced onto his face. “I’m gonna go lie down.” With that, he put his hands in his pockets and turned to walk off.

 

Taph tried to reclaim his attention, but the gambler had already started leaving, posture tense as he passed through the living room. His only goal in mind was to get back to the safety of his room. That’s all.

 

As they walked towards the door, they barely noticed the soft padding of tiny footsteps behind them. Chance had just made it outside when a cold, wet sensation suddenly pressed against his ankle.

 

The gambler flinched at the touch, a choked breath escaping him as he stumbled forward and turned behind him to see Spade following behind them. The rabbit looked up at him innocently, tilting her head in silent question.

 

It was just Spade. It was fine. She must’ve just nudged his ankle.

 

He really shouldn’t be so worked up about all of this; in fact, he should be over it. 

 

With a soft exhale, Chance turned back around, making their way to their cabin with Spade following in their footsteps. He slowly opened the door, holding it open just long enough for the rabbit to slip in as it closed behind them.

 

Chance let out a shaky breath, sitting on the edge of his bed. Telamon, there was something wrong with him. Why was he feeling like this? What was wrong with him?

 

One memory of iTrapped shouldn’t be bothering him this much. It didn’t help that it was spurred on by a mention of Elliot—

 

Elliot and him. Together.

 

Did he seriously like the other man like... that? 

 

He had never paid attention to their interactions before, but now it was all his brain could think about. Just before dinner, when they’d played cards—the way Elliot had looked at him with such kindness. That domestic bliss that made Chance almost loopy with joy. The peaceful silence as Spade nuzzled up on Elliot’s lap, his warm laugh that followed, making Chance’s stomach do somersaults—

 

Shiiiitt. 

 

He was in way deeper than he thought.

 

Chance let out a groan, burying their head in their hands as Spade jumped onto the bed beside them, curiously nudging their side. 

 

This was too confusing. He really didn’t want to think about all of this. Every time he reminisced on a moment shared between him and Elliot, all he could think about was that warmth. One he had never felt before. One he’d never felt with iTrapped.

 

Telamon, they were so different. iTrapped was always cold, always calculated. He had never worried for Chance—it had all been about keeping up appearances, hadn’t it? But Elliot had always exuded warmth, always laughed and cracked jokes to keep up with their banter. Always stressed about the tiniest things. Always made him feel wanted. They couldn’t be more different.

 

So why was he thinking about this?

 

Maybe because thinking about how he felt around Elliot was night and day to how he felt around iTrapped. And if Elliot made him feel like this, then it begged the question:

 

Did he ever really like iTrapped? Genuinely? Or was he just in love with the idea of loving iTrapped? Maybe he was starting to go crazy.

 

He was the first friend they ever had, the first one who approached them, not the other way around. Maybe they latched on too tightly, maybe they saw something that was never there, in fear of potentially losing him. Maybe that’s why iTrapped killed him, only seeing a desperate, clingy man in need of someone who stayed. It all ended the same.

 

If loving iTrapped was what caused that wedge, then he couldn’t repeat the same mistake. Chance wouldn’t know what to do if he lost Elliot—the only man who seemed to understand him on a different level than the others. If being more distant with Elliot was the only way to strike that balance, then fine. Or maybe that was Chance seeing things that weren’t there again.

 

Fuck, he was seriously spiraling right now, wasn’t he?

 

Chance’s thoughts were interrupted by a sudden whine next to him, just enough to sober them up. He looked over to see Spade still sitting beside him, ears hanging limply from her head. She let out another whine, eyeing him with the most sadness a rabbit could muster.

 

“Hey, girl,” he muttered hoarsely. “‘M a bit of a mess right now, huh?”

 

Spade’s tiny nose twitched as she moved forward to nudge his hand sadly. Chance responded by placing their hand on her head, rubbing slow circles with their thumb on the fur in between her ears.

 

She slowly padded onto his lap again, just like she had earlier after his nightmare. Her presence was grounding, and he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around her. Spade didn’t complain, making herself comfortable in the loose embrace.

 

The two sat there for a while, Chance finally letting their mask fall just a fraction. It seemed like he couldn’t stop the dam from overflowing after that, tears forming in his eyes. He didn’t even know why—there was nothing to even cry about. And yet, that’s all they could seem to do, letting the tears quietly fall onto Spade’s fluffy, black fur. 

 

Chance didn’t cry often—it was something he always pushed back. Crying showed too much. Too much he didn’t want seen by the public. Yet, here he was, silently sobbing and curling in on himself. Maybe it was the distant, pulsing phantom pain in his abdomen, or the longing for a feeling he wasn’t sure he could have again (if he ever really had it in the first place). It didn’t seem like he had much luck with love before, why would it work this time? He didn’t even know how to love correctly, because clearly the people he trusted to love always stabbed him in the back—

 

They weren’t sure how long they sat there until a soft knock interrupted the silence. Chance stilled in a sudden panic. He couldn’t be seen like this, he was a mess. Quickly, the gambler uncurled his body, rubbing the tears on his cheeks. He sucked in a long breath, forcing his poker face back on yet again. Spade worriedly pawed at their side as they stood up, readjusting their shades and fedora to look more presentable as they walked to the door.

 

He wasn’t even sure who would be coming to see him right now. Maybe Taph was coming to apologize? But this was their shared room, the demolitionist would’ve just walked in. 

 

Maybe Elliot? 

 

Telamon, he hoped not. Not now.

 

Nervously, Chance opened the door, surprised to see Guest of all people standing there.

 

“Uh-“ the gambler started, caught off guard. He shook his head, forcing his facade back into place. “What brings you here, soldier?”

 

Guest didn’t seem amused by his overly cheery attitude, raising an eyebrow in response. “Hello, Chance,” he said, formal as always, “just wondering how you’re doing.”

 

Chance’s eyes narrowed behind his shades. That wasn’t suspicious at all.

 

“I’m doin’ good! How’re you?” He chirped back in response, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“I’m okay,” Guest responded, “I actually came to talk to you.”

 

Uh oh. That couldn’t be good.

 

“Huh, you never struck me as the talking type,” Chance quipped, leaning against the door frame.

 

Guest sighed, wringing his hands. “May I come in?”

 

The gambler paused for a moment. He couldn’t really say no, could he?

 

With a huff, Chance stood up straighter. “Be my guest!” They exclaimed, standing to the side as Guest entered their room quietly.

 

Closing the door behind him, Chance turned around, getting comfortable on the edge of his bed as Guest leaned against the wall. Spade was still sitting beside him, ears pressed against her head sadly.

 

“So, you wanted to talk, boss?” The gray-haired man quipped yet again, leaning back lazily as his arms supported his weight.

 

Guest just hummed, nodding. “Taph asked me to come check in on you. They seemed pretty worried.”

 

Chance stilled at that. Yikes, this was really not good.

 

“Pffft, I’m fine!” The gambler retorted, waving him off. “Just needed a second to myself. Spade was missing all the attention I give her, anyway!”

 

The rabbit in question huffed, nudging his hand in silent protest as Guest huffed in response.

 

“Look, it’s important we make sure all of us here are in good shape, even though this situation is… less than ideal,” Guest started carefully. “If you aren’t doing the best, it’s best for us to know. We’re all here to help, Chance.”

 

Shit.

 

The words hung in the air tensely, followed by silence. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. How should he even respond to that?

 

Chance cleared his throat instead. “I get what you’re saying, pal, but I promise I’m fine,” they diverted, shrugging. “Taph and I just had a bit of a… thing.” 

 

Wow, that was a great explanation. What else could he have called it? Oh yeah, Taph mentioned one thing and got me to spiral horribly about my feelings towards the only two close friends I’ve had all my life, no biggie.

 

“He was scared he might’ve said something to bother you,” Guest countered eventually. “You did look pretty upset when you left.”

 

Chance bit the inside of his cheek. He totally forgot everyone would’ve seen him leaving in such a rush. He should’ve been more careful.

 

“Look, I don’t see why this is such a big deal!” The gambler shot back with a smirk. “Maybe things got a lil messy, but it’s fiiiine. I’ll talk to them about it later, yeah?”

 

Guest sighed, rubbing the crease in his forehead. “I’m not going to force you to talk if you don’t want to, Chance. Just know we’re always here if you need us,” the soldier said sympathetically, standing up from against the wall.

 

Chance kept their mouth shut, pressing it into a firm line. He appreciated the sentiment—really, he did—he just… wasn’t that type of person. If they showed any weakness, it revealed their truer self. People didn’t like who he was behind the mask–it was why nobody had ever wanted to be his friend—but Chance the gambler was a different person. Chance the gambler won big. Chance the gambler didn’t care what others thought of him because he was having fun.

 

The blue-haired man looked at him softly, but didn’t wait for a response, didn’t expect one. Instead, Guest chose to just quietly slip out of the room instead with a sad but knowing look, his offer hanging in the air. Spade whimpered softly, nosing at Chance’s arm again. She was clearly just as worried as everyone else.

 

“I know, girl,” he mumbled softly, “I’m okay.”

 

Spade butted her tiny head against their side with a soft noise of disapproval, to which Chance just sighed and resumed petting her back. 

 

Wow, he really was a mess. He needed to figure his shit out.

 

That was the last thought that crossed his mind before a ringing thrummed at his skull and everything went dark.

Notes:

this chapter was so long that i hid to SPLIT IT INTO TWO. it totaled at 8800+ words and 23 PAGES. for the sake of my sanity, im splitting it in half and posting the second chapter tomorrow. hope this makes up for the week long absence :'D

anyways this was a fun one right guys haha... i promise it will get worse :D the characterization in this one is kinda wack and lazy so if you see anything weird no you didn't

come scream at me over on my twitter (@wiiiowwtree :) i'd love to answer any fun questions or wtv if you have any!!

Chapter 5: frosted over

Summary:

chance gets his shit rocked hard

Notes:

panic/general sad vibes in this chapter. also tw for suicial ideation/attempt (chance and his gun amirite)

When the ringing in his ears faded, Chance blinked his eyes open to be met with the sight of a familiar map. Surrounding him were various gravestones and a large, barren tree in the center, a looming sky above him. He had spawned in the graveyard of Yorick’s Resting Place. What a cruel joke.

 

Chance’s hands clenched into fists as they looked around, hand grabbing their trusty coin from their pocket instinctively. The sight of the graves seemed to mock him, taunting him silently. They wondered for a brief moment what the graveyard he’d been buried in looked like.

 

His chest tightened at the thought. iTrapped would have left their body in that snow-covered forest for someone else to find. For their sake, he hoped it wasn’t someone who knew him.

 

Chance cursed under his breath, starting to flip his coin again. Everything seemed to be reminding him of iTrapped today, and he hated it. Even after dying, he couldn’t escape the man’s icy grasp.

 

With a shudder, Chance looked at the coin’s results, frowning as the tails seemed to taunt him back. He flipped it again.

 

Tails.

 

Tails.

 

Tails.

 

Tails.

 

“Fuckin’, dammit,” Chance muttered in frustration. They thought their luck had been bad enough earlier. Clearly, they were wrong.

 

With a huff, the gambler continued to flip, starting to walk away from the graveyard. He was a sitting duck right now, the weakness pressing down against his skull, limbs feeling like lead. If he didn’t find somewhere safer to hide, he’d be dead.

 

Slowly, Chance made their way towards the mansion, praying they didn’t come across the killer on a whim. He didn’t even know who it was yet, but it was pretty easy to narrow down the options. John Doe would’ve summoned his spikes by now, and 1x would’ve used her mass infection. That left c00lkid, Noli, or Slasher.

 

Between the three, c00lkid was the easiest to identify. There was a high chance he would’ve thrown a brick or two by now, or maybe even summoned his minions. He also didn’t care about being stealthy at all, even singing demented versions of children’s songs as he chased them all in a whole normal fucked up way

 

That left Noli or Slasher, which were arguably Chance’s least favorite to deal with. The latter loved getting up in the survivors’ faces for hand-to-hand combat—Chance’s gun was nearly useless in that scenario. On the other hand, Noli had his hallucinations.

 

Chance shuddered. Those hallucinations were the worst. On most occasions, they were just slightly off versions of Noli himself, but sometimes… 

 

Sometimes they manifested as mirrors of the darkest parts of themselves, memories pushed way below the surface. There had been times when Two Time had seen their past lover in place of Noli’s hallucination, or even Elliot with his sister, Mia. It was a low chance, but not impossible. And if iTrapped was already on their mind…

 

Chance groaned, dragging their spare hand down their face. This was about to be a really annoying round, wasn’t it? He should find somebody to stick with soon.

 

The gambler never got the opportunity, though, as a loud ringing sound distantly echoed from behind him where a generator sat. That couldn’t be good.

 

In a brief flash of light, a distorted, fleshy form stood behind him, the void star in his hand pulsing with light.

 

“Shit,” Chance murmured, flipping his coin once again.

 

Tails.

 

Seems like Lady Luck really wasn’t going to be kind to him today.

 

With another mumbled curse, Chance turned foot and ran, heading towards the mansion. They knew someone would be up there—at least one of them always was. He tried to turn around a wall as Noli sprinted behind him, garbled speech leaving his lips. The gambler barely had any time to react to the distinct sound of the killer charging up his nova before chucking it at the wall.

 

It hit the wood right in front of Chance, causing them to topple over at the impact, a burning sensation spreading across their body. They hadn’t even gotten to their feet before Noli slashed at him, clawing him right across his exposed chest. 

 

Chance yelped in pain, one hand instinctively going to clutch the wound as he tried to kick the killer away. Pain spread across his chest at the touch, almost burning—the skin had already been singed from the attack, and it didn’t help that it was now gushing blood.

 

He didn’t have time to think about it, rolling to the side to predict another hit, much to his wound’s disapproval. The gambler winced as he got to his feet, swaying with the adrenaline that pulsed through his veins.

 

Their bloody hand went back to their pocket, pulling out their coin yet again. He sent a quick prayer to Lady Luck as he flipped it one more time.

 

Heads.

 

Finally. 

 

With a huff of satisfaction, Chance started running again, trying to get as much distance as possible. His wound ached with each step, but the pain was long forgotten in favor of the adrenaline rush he was feeling. They had more important things to worry about anyway.

 

Chance grabbed his flintlock from its holster, twirling it once in his left hand. He only had one charge—one chance to get this to work. The gambler didn’t hesitate to click the safety off, turning around just as Noli started charging up another nova.

 

In one quick moment, they fired the gun, bracing for the impact. It never came, though, a loud bang going off instead as the gun successfully fired. The bullet found its way right into Noli’s exposed skull, causing him to stumble backwards with a yell.

 

"D-do you act-t-tu-ually think y-y-you can defe-e-e-eat me?" The hacker garbled out, words glitchy and corrupt as they held their mask in place.

 

Chance just let out a satisfied noise. “Hell yeah! Headshot!” He whooped out, a smile spreading across his face as he quickly turned heel and ran back towards the mansion, having bought himself just enough time to escape. 

 

The gambler ran across the bridge, huffing as he sprinted up the earthy stairs to the mansion. Through his bleary vision, he could make out someone on a generator in front of him, overlooking the river. Their arrival seemed to spook the person in front of them, clearly catching them off guard as they dropped the wires they were tinkering with.

 

“Chance! Shit- a-are you okay?” They called out. Chance heard their voice before he could really glimpse who had said the words.

 

“Never better!” He slurred out, hand still pressed up against the burnt skin of their abdomen.

 

Looking up the see the fellow survivor caused Chance to still, however. Standing in front of him was someone with blonde hair, blue clothes, stepping towards him—

 

Chance staggered backwards based on pure instinct, letting out a choked breath. It seemed like the figure morphed in front of him in an instant, a taunting icy crown on its head. 

 

“iTrapped?” Chance whispered out, teeth chattering with the phantom cold that seemed to swirl around him suddenly. His abdomen seemed to suddenly jolt in pain, a feeling of deja vu passing through him.

 

The man in front of them stepped closer, causing Chance to stumble further back haphazardly, suddenly frozen in place.

 

“Hi, Chancey,” iTrapped taunted, hand resting on the sheath of his sword. The same sword that killed him—

 

This could not be fucking happening. The blood loss must be getting to him.

 

Chance’s eyes seemed to dart everywhere except iTrapped, crazed and panicked. It’s like all the breath had been sucked out of him, panic quickly flowing through his veins and freezing them like ice.

 

Breathing suddenly seemed increasingly difficult, their breath coming out in short wheezes as their head spun with increasing dizziness.

 

He needed to get out of here.

 

iTrapped’s mouth was moving in front of him, but the words fell on deaf ears. Chance’s flight or fight instinct seemed to suddenly kick in, and the next thing he knew, he was running up the stairs of the mansion.

 

The person called out from behind him, but Chance paid it no mind, running into one of the dark rooms as quickly as he could. They pressed themselves up against the wall, panting heavily. His mind was spinning with questions and what-ifs and panic. So much panic, it was like he couldn’t see straight—

 

iTrapped was here. Somehow, against every law and rule Chance had established for this place, the man had found his way through the cracks. And now he was here.

 

The gambler sucked in a shaky breath, hand flying to his abdomen as another pang of phantom pain shot through him. They barely held back a wince through clenched teeth. 

 

He needed to calm the fuck down, that’s what he needed to do. If iTrapped really was here, the man might as well be tracking them down to kill them again, and even though Chance had been killed enough times to lose track, he wouldn’t let himself die to that goddamn blade again—

 

The sound of footsteps interrupted his thoughts, slowly padding towards the room he had cornered himself in. “Shit,” Chance wheezed out, hand shakily grasping their flintlock. He suddenly realized he had collapsed to the ground at some point. When had that happened?

 

As the figure drew closer, the gambler’s vision seemed to sway dizzily again, a purple tinge creeping into the corner of his vision. The person rounded the corner, revealing the shiny, blue ice crown atop their head, glinting under the fading lights.

 

“Stop,” Chance nearly whined, one hand wrapping against their chest while the other raised their shaking flintlock. He hated the way his voice sounded so vulnerable.

 

They swallowed. “If you step any fuckin’ closer, I’ll shoot you,” he breathed out raggedly.

 

iTrapped paused again, something so uncharacteristic of him, before taking a hesitant step closer. “Chance,” the voice cooed, that familiar toxic honey dripping from his voice, “it’s just me.”

 

The words were so wrong, twisted, and manipulated in a way that made no sense to his ears. Chance’s breath hitched as they raised their gun up higher. His whole body shuddered, nearly dropping the weapon in his panic.

 

“I’m serious,” they wheezed out, “I- I’ll shoot you. Don’t fuckin’ do this to me, ‘Trap, I’ll—“ The gambler’s voice died out, throat going dry as iTrapped advanced towards him, bringing with him that icy chill that always made them shudder.

 

“Chance,” the voice repeated, with an odd amount of sincerity, “just drop the gun, man.”

 

His vision morphed again, briefly pulsing purple as he blinked a few times to combat the roaring rush of blood in his ears. For a moment, the figure in front of him—iTrapped—seemed to flicker, changing in shape, before it switched back.

 

“No,” Chance gritted out, readjusting his grip on the handle as his finger readied over the trigger, “no, no, no, you do not get to do this to me!” He barked out, a hollow, rattling laugh bubbling out of his mouth in the process. It rang through the silence, cutting through the thick tension in the air.

 

iTrapped seemed to falter before bringing his hands up in surrender. What bullshit. 

 

“Whatever game you’re playing won’t work on me, not again,” Chance bit back. After a brief moment of hesitation, they suddenly turned the gun on themselves in one quick movement, pressing the cold barrel right up against their temple, something so hauntingly familiar it almost caused him to flinch at his own actions.

 

“You wanna play? Fine, let’s play,” he spat out, pressing the gun harder against his skull.

 

Suddenly, iTrapped looked increasingly alarmed. This was getting suspiciously out of character. The man had a good poker face, but this was completely out of the realm of Chance’s knowledge. Slowly, the figure crouched down to his level, hands still up in a placating gesture.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chance—“ he said urgently, tone wavering nervously. “Can you please just put the gun down?”

 

Chance couldn’t help the dark chuckle that left his lips. “Oh fuck you. You never cared before wh—“ 

 

Before the gambler could finish their sentence, an overwhelming vertigo caused their head to spin. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back the sudden nausea that threatened to empty his stomach. A taunting chime echoed in his ears. Congratulations, you wo-o-o-o-on! When they reopened their eyes, the purple around his vision was gone, and the figure had approached his side.

 

More noticeably, there was a warm hand on his shoulder.

 

iTrapped was never warm. Ever.

 

Chance blinked a few times, instinctively leaning into the touch before he finally looked up. Standing there wasn’t iTrapped, but Elliot.

 

Shiiit…

 

“You back with me?” The blonde asked softly, eyebrows knitted together in so much concern it made Chance want to cry.

 

The gambler paused, trying to find what words to say. What could he even say after all that? Sorry for hallucinating you as my dead ex/lover/killer? And for threatening to shoot myself? My bad??

 

Instead of saying any of that, Chance just offered a weak nod.

 

Elliot hummed thoughtfully, grabbing a pizza from his satchel and gingerly handing it to them. They accepted it silently, pausing for just a moment to stare at it. Telamon, this was so fucked up.

 

“Eat,” Elliot told him gently, “it’s for your chest.”

 

And oh, Chance had almost forgotten about that large burn wound spanning his torso, still sluggishly bleeding where he had gotten slashed. Suddenly, his dizziness made much more sense.

 

The two sat in an awkward silence as the gambler started to eat the pizza—Elliot too scared to push Chance’s boundaries and Chance too scared to showcase any part of himself that wasn’t hand-selected prior. It was a stalemate.

 

But, eventually, Elliot mustered up the courage to speak. “You okay?” He asked in a small voice. It was a stupid question in hindsight, but it was something. An olive branch.

 

“Yeah,” Chance mumbled back in response, cringing at the dry sound of his voice. He kept his gaze down, looking anywhere but at the man in front of him. What they did notice was the distinct lack of their gun that was previously in their hand.

 

Elliot seemed to notice his minor confusion, shifting where he sat. “Sorry, I, um.. took that,” he explained lamely. 

 

Chance just nodded. “Prob’bly for the best,” he said, words still slightly slurred from the blood loss. Had he been so out of it that he didn’t even notice Elliot grab it—? It didn’t help that his teeth were still chattering. His whole body felt encased in ice, save for the single source of warmth that was Elliot’s hand on their shoulder. 

 

“Still cold?” Elliot asked after a beat, concern painting his features.

 

The gray-haired man just shrugged noncommittally in response, but it was clearly not fine, given how his body continued to shake. Telamon, this was so embarrassing. He should’ve known he was hallucinating from the start. It made so much more sense. How dull could he be?

 

“Can I hug you?” Elliot suddenly asked in a soft voice. There was a moment, before he quickly shook his head, as if regretting ever asking. “Sorry, sorry, that was a stupid question—“

 

But Chance just shifted in place where they sat against the wall, leaning closer into the pizza man’s touch. A horrible, horrible, selfish part of him longed for it. It was like his prior fear of getting closer to the blonde had been forgotten. 

 

“Please,” he whispered back, wishing he could take the words back the minute they left his mouth. This was so stupid. They were never usually this vulnerable. What had gotten into them? If iTrapped were here—

 

Any worries Chance had seemed to melt away alongside the chills wracking his body as Elliot’s arms wrapped around him. His hold was gentle, warm, securely encircling him with the only purpose being to make him feel safe.

 

Chance barely repressed a flinch at the sudden change in temperature, but melted into it all the same. Telamon, this was actually nice. It was so different from iTrapped that it almost gave them whiplash.

 

Where iTrapped was icy words, cold, ghostly touches, and apathetic glances, Elliot was warm, careful, safe, just as he had told himself earlier. It was everything Chance had longed for all his life. And if he almost let himself close his eyes and greedily embrace it, that was nobody’s business. 

 

But they couldn’t stay in his arms forever. They were still in the middle of a round, after all, the killer wouldn’t just wait for them. It seemed to dawn on the gambler then what their position was. He had been stressing earlier about a scenario with Elliot just like this, the way butterflies would flutter in his stomach, the indescribable lightness he'd feel, and here he was just letting it happen. All that prior comparison with iTrapped seemed ironic now.

 

As much as Chance wanted to selfishly stay against the contact, he knew they had other places to be (and maybe he grew fearful of being so close and vulnerable to the man). Slowly, the gambler began to withdraw, meeting Elliot’s brown eyes through his shades. The man looked at him with so much soft concern that it made Chance’s stomach queasy with an emotion he couldn’t describe.

 

“Better?” Elliot asked gently, slowly moving his arms down. Chance longed for the missing warmth of his embrace the minute it moved away.

 

“Yeah,” they responded, voice still gravelly from lack of use. 

 

There was a beat before Chance cleared his throat, slowly putting his walls back up. “Well, we should probably get goin’, hm?” He immediately pivoted, poker face returning to place as he readjusted his shades with one hand and his fedora with the other. Telamon, Taph was right—he really was getting close with Elliot, and that scared him.

 

Elliot frowned at him softly. “Seriously?” He retorted incredulously. “There’s no way you’re thinking of going back out there.”

 

“And why wouldn’t I?” Chance laughed, cringing at his own voice. “Ya know I got a job to do, right?”

 

The blonde’s brow furrowed at that. He opened his mouth, as if he were debating on saying something, before closing it with a sharp breath out his nose. “You know you just had a whole episode, right?” He echoed back, raising an eyebrow.

 

Chance scoffed. “Yeah, well, we’re past that, yeah? You’re gonna need someone to cover you when you leave to help another fella anyway.”

 

Elliot just blinked at him, starting to grow more concerned. “You’re allowed to like... take a second, Chance. You don’t have to rush right back in—“

 

“And leave you to do all the helping on your own? Hah,” Chance scoffed dryly, “bold idea.” With that, they shakily got to their feet, ignoring the way they swayed in the process. Elliot rose with him, keeping a hesitant arm out just in case they fell.

 

The gambler stretched their arms out over their head, before forcing themselves to relax their tense body, rolling their shoulders a few times. Once his poker face had been safely resecured, he put his hands in his coat pockets lazily and started to walk over.

 

“Chance,” Elliot’s voice called out softly from behind him, “missing something?”

 

They paused at that. Chance didn’t have to look behind him to know what he was referring to. Swearing briefly under his breath, he turned back around, seeing Elliot holding up his busted flintlock.

 

“Don’t think you can stun the killer without this,” the blonde added, twirling it around in his fingers once for good measure.

 

“So, what? You’re gonna blackmail me now?” Chance retorted, raising a brow. “News flash, pal: been there, done that.” They took a step closer towards the other man as he took a step back. 

 

Elliot frowned worriedly in response. “No, I’m— I just think you should take a rest, man.”

 

“And where’s the fun in that!” The gambler fired back with a lighthearted shrug.

 

“You almost shot yourself, Chance!” Elliot exclaimed, more concern seeping into his tone. “You were hallucinating that badly! Your eyes were all purple!”

 

Chance just huffed. He had done that, hadn’t he? One more thing that he wasn’t looking forward to thinking about tonight.

 

“And I’m fine now, yeah?” The gambler said with a smirk, taking his hands out of his pockets to gesture to himself. “Not a scratch! So, if you’d please—“

 

Elliot’s frown deepened, his bottom lip wobbling ever so slightly. “You’re freaking me out here-” he mumbled, grip on the gun tightening. “One second you’re bleeding out and trying to shoot yourself a- and now you’re just... brushing it off—? I don’t understand why you’re so insistent on leaving me behind—“

 

That made Chance pause, smirk faltering. “Whaddaya mean?” They asked, trying and failing to keep some of that usual suavity in their tone.

 

“Acting like this! Like nothing is ever wrong!” Elliot fired back worriedly. “Can you just let yourself feel like a normal person? Please?”

 

Chance flinched at the hurt in Elliot’s tone. “Can you just drop it, please?” They echoed.

 

“Does this have to do with what you and Taph were talking about earlier?” Elliot shot back, sniffling.

 

Chance hummed, trying to feign indifference. “We weren’t talking about anything,” they stressed, fingers wrapping nervously around their coin in their pocket. “Seriously, Elli, it’s fine.”

 

But Elliot didn’t stop, seemingly only growing more frustrated. “Fine enough that Taph asked Guest to go check on you? We were all worried something bad had happened—“

 

The gambler pressed his lips together into a fine line, suddenly very much aware of how public that had been. “It was fine. Everything’s all good now, you don’t have to worry about it!” He tried to exclaim more cheerily, fingers clenching and unclenching around his coin like a lifeline.

 

“Well, I am worried,” Elliot huffed, “I don’t know why you can’t understand that.”

 

Chance didn’t say anything at first. What were they supposed to say? He wasn’t the type to deal with these touchy-feely topics. Showing anything other than his poker face was one more part of himself he didn’t want seen. His gambler persona was what kept him afloat all those years. If people saw the truth below that, would they like what they found? No.

 

It’s not like anyone liked this part of you either, a traitorous part of his brain told him, causing him to frown. It wasn’t wrong, though. He had only ever had one friend, and look how that turned out.

 

“You promised me if anything happened you’d come talk to me,” Elliot mumbled softly, “remember that?”

 

Chance paused. “But nothing happened, El,” he said back. It was clearly the wrong thing to say, given how Elliot’s face dropped.

 

“Fine,” the blonde whispered sadly, “be like that. Come find me when you’re ready to actually talk.” The words were said with a hint of resignation as Elliot looked down at the flintlock.

 

“Don’t let it misfire on you this time,” he muttered, throwing it over to the gambler.

 

Chance barely managed to grab it out of the air before it cluttered to the floor, just as Elliot readjusted his visor and stepped around him. With that, the man was gone, leaving Chance alone to think about what he’d done.

 

And fuck, if that didn’t hurt.

 

There was this hollow feeling growing in his chest, pulling at his heart like ice nipping at flower buds. 

 

He holstered his gun, groaning as he brought both hands up to grasp onto the strands of hair escaping from underneath his fedora. Telamon, he was a moron. He was so scared of getting close to Elliot like that, but he wasn’t supposed to be pushing him away—what was wrong with him? They already longed for the distinct warmth of the blonde’s arms again, trying to latch onto whatever was left of it. He really was stupid.

 

Pushing people away, being so scared to show that vulnerability… Chance shuddered. He had almost shot Elliot, for Telamon’s sake. Was he turning into him?

 

No, no, that couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t let that happen. 

 

Fuck, he needed to apologize. Not just to Elliot, but probably to Taph and Guest too. He wasn’t even sure where to start with all that, though. For right now, he needed to focus on finishing the current round.

 

So, Chance readjusted their fedora nervously, starting to walk out of the mansion as they pushed all of their emotions down as far as they could. Sure enough, nobody was outside; it seemed everyone was preoccupied with Noli, who they could just barely spot in the distance. 

 

In all honesty, Chance didn’t really want to go over there. Not because he didn’t want to help, but in fear of seeing Elliot again. Or maybe it was everybody else seeing him. He wasn’t sure.

 

As he took a few more steps closer, he swayed, blinking back exhaustion. He hadn’t realized how tired he actually was, mentally and physically. Maybe Elliot had been right to tell him to rest.

 

No, he couldn’t. There were people being chased that needed his help.

 

With a resigned sigh, Chance finally decided to move forward, going around so as not to be spotted as he started flipping his coin again. 

 

Heads.

 

Tails.

 

Heads.

 

Heads.

 

Chance smirked as the result shone back at them. Maybe their luck was finally turning around? Three charges were more than enough to land a successful shot.

 

The sound of Noli’s disgruntled, glitchy words slowly grew louder as they neared, hiding around a few walls to stay hidden.

 

It was Guest at the scene of the crime, attempting to land a punch on the distorted killer. In the background, they could briefly spot the flash of Elliot’s red visor, too. Maybe if he could get a shot off, the blonde would be able to give Guest a well-needed pizza. That would certainly be a way to start making it up to him.  

 

The gambler let out a breath, tense shoulders dropping. They raised their gun in their left hand, closing one eye to get a better view of their target. The two were moving around a lot, though, throwing off his aim. 

 

Fine, okay, maybe he just needed to get closer!

 

His hands shook on the gun as he stalked forward, keeping his gun trained unsteadily on the killer. Chance watched their movements, trying to spot a pattern. He had always found patterns in gambling–it’s what let him know the cards well, after all. His finger fiddled over the trigger, waiting patiently for just the right moment. They watched as Noli dodged one of Guest’s punches by moving to the side, granting him the perfect moment to rush forward. His void star flickered out of existence in preparation to charge—

 

Now.

 

Chance’s finger pressed down on the trigger hard, waiting with trepidation for the flintlock’s response. 

 

For a moment, there was silence, before a loud boom reverberated around his skull. His ears rang as a burning sensation overcame his whole body, his hand on fire—

 

—and then he was back, spawning in the main lobby yet again.

 

Chance blinked a few times, trying to brush off the tingling sensation of his body lingering from the explosion.

 

“Bad luck, kid?” A gruff voice suddenly called out to him from the couch. Builderman, Chance distantly recognized.

 

“Guess so,” Chance offered half-heartedly, attempting to shake off the stinging phantom pain that came from literally dying. After all that horrible luck with the coinflips, he had finally gotten three charges just to blow up anyway. If that wasn't unlucky, he wasn't sure what was.

 

Builderman huffed. “Tough round, I get it. Noli’s the worst,” he tried to reassure.

 

Chance just hummed noncommittally in response. Briefly, he realized he was acting way out of character. Gone was the mask he normally wore, torn open by Elliot’s words that were hotter than the flames that had just consumed him.

 

“You sure you’re okay, kid?” The older man asked, looking at him with a furrowed brow. 

 

The gambler forced their poker face back on with all the energy they could muster. “Sure thing, gramps,” he responded with a forced smile, hoping the teasing nickname would lighten the mood. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” With that excuse, they slipped towards the upper level of the cabin, needing any reason to escape where that conversation seemed to be heading.

 

Much to Chance’s disappointment, another figure seemed to already be up there, sitting on one of the beanbags. Yellow hair, blue clothes—

 

He swallowed nervously. It was just Noob. They didn’t seem alone, though, accompanied by Spade resting on their lap comfortably. The person in question turned around as he approached, a worried expression on their face.

 

“Chance!” They called out. “I’m so sorry- a- are you okay? I didn’t mean to startle you earlier and-”

 

“Woah, woah, woah, slow your roll, kid,” he rushed out, caught off guard by the onslaught of sudden words. “What happened?”

 

Noob sniffled, swallowing. “You were injured a- and I tried to help you, but you mentioned somebody else and then froze up and- and ran—? S- so I went and found Elliot to help you—” The blonde rambled, squeezing Spade closer to their chest. The rabbit licked at Noob’s chin in reassurance before looking over at Chance with that sad look again. 

 

Oh. Oh, he hadn’t just been hallucinating iTrapped, but Noob as iTrapped.

 

Shit.

 

“Oh, heh, guess I did do that, huh…” he trailed off awkwardly, hand securing around his coin as he put his hands in his coat pockets. “Don’t worry about that, kid. I’m all good now.”

 

Noob subconsciously continued to stroke Spade’s fur nervously. “You sure?” They asked in a small voice.

 

“Yeah, bud,” Chance reassured with a jerky nod. “J’s hallucinations. You know how it is.”

 

A soft 'oh' escaped Noob’s mouth as they pressed their lips into a thin line, nodding. Slowly, Chance approached their side, standing next to the beanbag.

 

“Seems like Spade has taken a likin' to you, hm?” The gambler deflected, looking down at the rabbit in their lap.

 

Noob gave a small smile at that. “Yeah, she’s great. Kinda like a therapy dog.”

 

Chance snorted. “Yeah, when she’s not biting your finger off.” Spade’s ears rotated in a threatening manner towards him at that, nose twitching silently.

 

"I guess," Noob said softly, still smiling. The blonde’s grip on the rabbit loosened as they turned towards Chance. “Here, you could probably use her.”

 

Chance blinked a few times, caught off guard. Spade seemed to take this as her sign to leap off of Noob’s lap, padding towards the gambler’s leg and pawing at it insistently.

 

He let out a soft huff, picking up the rabbit and holding her up against his chest. “Thanks, Noob,” they said with a smile. “She probably needs to eat somethin’ right about now too, dontcha, girl?”

 

Spade just let out a tiny breath, butting her head against his chest.

 

“Seems like that’s a yes,” Chance chuckled. “Cya, kid!” With a more genuine smirk on his face, he turned and started walking back downstairs with uplifted spirits. They walked past the living room, making their way into the kitchen. Gently placing Spade on the floor, he opened the fridge, scouring for something of substance. The half-eaten carrot from earlier quickly grabbed his attention.

 

Chance grabbed the carrot immediately, snapping off a few more pieces of it into his hand. “We should find you a bowl,” he thought aloud under his breath, holding the pieces out to her.

 

Spade nosed at the food for a moment before starting to nibble on it quietly. Chance couldn’t help but let out a relieved sigh.

 

They sat in the kitchen for a few moments, waiting for Spade to finish her dinner. He had also made sure to supply her with a makeshift bowl of water, which was really just a small cup he’d placed down on the floor. Hopefully Elliot wouldn’t mind.

 

Speaking of which…

 

A sudden noise caught his and Spade’s attention, both of them looking towards the source. Sure enough, the survivors had all respawned at the winners' table, looking much worse for wear. As the rabbit scampered over to greet the returning survivors, Chance’s eyes fell on Elliot.

 

The blonde looked tired—that mental exhaustion that weighed on your limbs type of tired. His hair was rustled under his slightly crooked visor, mouth downturned in a frown. Guess their argument had more of an impact than Chance thought, unless the round really was that bad. With a sigh, the gambler stood up from where they were crouched on the ground.

 

He didn’t want Elliot to look at him, not yet. All he’d see would be that look of concern, of disappointment. Maybe he was the one who didn’t want to see Elliot.

 

Chance moved to scamper out of the room, but Elliot’s gaze had already locked onto him. Sure enough, his eyes were full of concern. More noticeably, though, was that his face seemed to sag with exhaustion. Chance couldn’t help but wince as he turned around and continued walking out.

 

Telamon, he’d really fucked everything up.

Notes:

haha this is the second part i was mentioning woohoo

this chapter was so fun to write ughhh i love writing paycheck interactions, i wish that was the whole book (says the literal author)

i dont really like the rest of this chapter tho i wish it didnt feel as rushed but im not!! rewriting it!! so ignore any other grammatical mistakes etc

it will (eventually) get better after this, i promise :)

ALSOOOO if you catch the tadc ep 6 reference in this you get an extra gold star. if i had a nickel for every favorite character of mine who always wore a mask to hide his true self and coped with humor...

anyways come yell at me at my twitter (@wiiiowwtree) i really want to start posting some stuff abt this fic and would love to talk to you guys :D you're all so nice!!

Notes:

please leave kudos or comments!!! i love reading them! :D