Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Elliot, please, you can’t be serious…” the hacker said, taking a step backward. 

“You still had hope for him? You thought he could be redeemed, didn’t you? You thought the two of you could escape this place and have your ‘happy ever after’, running away from the consequences that brought you here in the first place!” Elliot had said, an incredulous look of disgust on his face.

The man grabbed him by the jaw, forcing him to stare up at him. “He’s a killer, 007n7. Didn’t you hear what he said, he said we could escape if we just eliminated one–” Elliot paused, rubbing his face in frustration. “This is our only chance of freedom, 007n7. Are you seriously risking all that for a stupid killer?”

007n7 stared into his eyes in fear and in quiet apathy. Selfish. Selfish again, putting yourself before others.

“I’ve always told you two to never come back-! But you never listened, you simply never listened. Look where that brought you, filthy hacker,” Elliot hissed through his teeth. “Through murder and death and neglect, your own kid ended up here. Dead and forever in hell. Maybe you do deserve to stay here.” 

“I gave up everything for him.” 007n7 said weakly, and I’d give up anything again just to have that life back, he wanted to say, but his throat was all closed up he decided against speaking out against the enraged pizza worker.

Elliot laughed. "Gave up? You gave up nothing! You just passed the torch to the kid. You thought becoming a 'father' absolved you of the chaos you left behind, but all you did was give me a smaller, more annoying target. He paid the ultimate price for your obscenity, hacker. His death is on your hands, not mine.”

For a moment, it felt like he would launch himself at Elliot, but the movement died in his legs. His eyes, burning with unshed tears, dropped to the grimy floor. 007n7 clenched his fist. He couldn’t see the faces of the people behind Elliot.

“It wasn't his fault,” 007n7 mumbled, “He was just a kid… He wanted to be like me.”

“And you let him,” Elliot hissed, his face only inches from 007n7’s. “You gave in to him, to let him wander back to the place you should have never brought him to. You let him become a killer to try and save your sorry hide! The only way out of here is the path you’re too much of a coward to take: murder. You’ve done it once, you can do it again. Or stay here, skip the round, and rot with the ghost of your son.”

“n7?”

007n7 whipped his head around. Who said that?

Even Elliot seemed to freeze in place, image becoming foggy.

The voice was foggy too.

Admins, who was grabbing his arm?

“W☐ke up!”

He burst upright in the darkness, a ragged, wet gasp tearing through his throat.

The world was suddenly solid, but utterly silent. The chill he felt now was the familiar dampness of the cabin air, not the deep, bone-aching cold of the dream. He was in his bunk, tucked into the corner he always claimed.

007n7 was not unaccustomed to nightmares during his eternal stay in this hellhole, hell, they’d been common even while he was alive. 

“007n7?”

007n7 looked up. Dark blue hair, white-skinned hand holding onto n7’s arm, that voice…it was just Guest 1337.

“Oh- hey Guest,” 007n7 said, panting slightly. 

“You good? I heard some… sounds. I’m a light sleeper, so I woke up to check on you.”

It was then 007n7 realised he was in his bunk at all, blanket draped over his mattress and spilling haphazardly onto the floor. The oversized cotton shirt he wore to sleep on the colder nights in the cabin was wet, as if he’d taken a shower with sweat. He also kinda stank.

“Uh, yeah. I’m good. Sorry to bother you, I can sort myself out from here.” 007n7 said, gingerly peeling his soaked shirt off from his skin, lightly brushing Guest aside to go splash water on his face or something, whatever that would keep him awake until morning.

Guest 1337 stood up, and followed 007n7. Their footsteps padded against the wooden floorboards, careful not to wake the other survivors in the other bunks. 007n7’s bunk was indeed a ways away from the others, with the hallway split into two and multiple bunks in each room for the survivors. Guest, Noob, Twotime, Chance and Elliot in one, and Shedletsky, Builderman, Veeronica, Dusekkar and Taph in the other.

Sometimes 007n7 had to be grateful he wasn’t sleeping on a top bunk. He would’ve fallen from quite a height if that had happened.

Nobody occupied the bed above 007n7, the man absently noticed. Probably for evident reasons.

“You’re freezing. Let’s get you a dry shirt and maybe some water.” Guest insisted. 007n7 knew he couldn’t argue with the stubborn veteran, so he reluctantly sat down, watching Guest rummage through the closet to find an extra shirt.

The sky wasn’t at dawn yet, but he could see the  dark blue streaking into the clouds and into the sky. If 007n7 had to guess, it was probably an hour before sunrise. The night air was chilly, such was the normal temperature in this hellhole at the early hours.

He let out a sigh. There likely wasn’t enough time to go back to sleep. Oh well. Running on one less hour or so of sleep was better than no sleep at all, as were his first days here, forsaken to an endless game of surviving killers.

“Aaand here you are, a new shirt and some water.” Guest returned, with a neatly folded shirt in hand and a glass of water, faster than n7 thought he would. 

“Thanks,” 007n7 said, downing the water in one go. Fresh cold water never tasted better, at least. 

007n7 emerged with the new shirt on, old shirt dumped into the corner to be washed at the lake they had at the end of the stretch of empty ground their cabin was on.

"Try to keep the nightmares quiet," Guest murmured, his voice softening slightly. “I’m gonna go try to catch another hour of sleep, see you in the morning, n7.” He didn't wait for a response, turning to pad silently back toward his own room. The light from seemingly his presence receded, and the main room was once again swallowed by deep shadow. 

007n7 stood alone, the chill air already seeping into the new, dry cotton of the shirt. He knew he should try to follow Guest's advice, to at least rest his eyes.

He moved back to his bunk, but instead of climbing under the blanket, he sat on the edge of the mattress, running a hand over the rough weave of the fabric.

This is our only chance of freedom. Are you seriously risking all that for a stupid killer?

He knew Elliot. He knew the real Elliot - that stubborn, pizza-obsessed manager who, despite their antagonistic past, had shown him an astounding, almost confusing amount of compassion and forgiveness in this hell. The man had accepted him, a former infamous hacker, and even stood up for him against the others. The real Elliot was fundamentally, almost annoyingly, altruistic. He wouldn't frame their escape as a necessary murder, even though they could never escape from purgatory anyway.

No, the Elliot in the dream was a manifestation of pure, ruthless desperation, fueled by ancient grudges.

He’s a killer, 007n7. Didn’t you hear what he said, he said we could escape if we just eliminated one-

But, more importantly, who was he? Who was the dream-Elliot talking about?

007n7 dismissed the thought. This was stupid. Dreams were dreams, and nightmares were nightmares. Whatever hallucinations his retarded mind could think about was just another quality of his that brought him down, and he couldn't afford that in the morning.

He pulled his blanket up around his shoulders, wrapping himself tightly against the cabin's chill. He focused on the rhythm of his own breathing, trying to make his mind as blank as the silent walls around him. He needed to be nothing, feel nothing, think nothing. Just the quiet sensation of the wool against his skin, the slow expansion and contraction of his chest.

The faint blue of the morning sky was becoming yellow now, 007n7 vaguely registered, after what felt like a while spent idly looking out his window.

Suddenly, a metallic CRASH echoed through the compound, followed by a muffled, panicked shout from the other survivor room.

007n7 was immediately as awake as he could possibly be. That sound was definitely from the other survivor room. He vaguely registered the movement of Chance’s form under the blankets shifting at the corner of his eye, followed by the slower movement of Elliot tugging off his blankets on his own cot.

Guest had already climbed down from his bunk that he shared with Chance, and headed toward the door. He paused only long enough to throw a quick, non-committal look back.

007n7 realized he should follow, but the fear of appearing nosy—or perhaps of having to deal with the inevitable drama—held him back for a beat. He settled on caution, slipping out of his bunk and walking silently toward the door, keeping a respectful distance behind the veteran.

They opened the door to the other neighbouring room—the one housing Shedletsky, Builderman, and Dusekkar. The scene was both alarming and unfortunately, anticlimactically, recognizable.

In the dim light, a large, empty metal bucket—likely for water storage—lay on its side, the source of the sound. Next to it, rubbing his shin and muttering a string of low curses, was Shedletsky.

He was fully dressed, despite the hour, and already looked wide awake. 007n7 had always known these admins were morning people. Builderman was already dressed as well, looking annoyed and ready to deliver a stern lecture. Dusekkar was at the closet, probably looking for his clothes, and Taph had just sat up in their bed. Veeronica was still powered down, screen dim. 

Shedletsky, noticing the two other survivors who’d entered the room, gave a sheepish grin.

“Oopsies. Sorry for waking you,” he chirped, sounding entirely too cheerful for the hour. He nudged the overturned bucket with his foot, as if blaming the inanimate object. “I was just trying to… relocate some supplies before the official start of the day. You know, beat the rush! I wasn’t looking, and…turns out that thing’s louder than it looks.” 

Guest 1337 simply sighed, running a hand through his already messy blue hair. He didn’t have the energy to argue with Shedletsky’s perpetual mischief. "Just put the bucket back, Shed. And keep the commotion down. We still have an hour or so."

007n7 watched on silently from behind the veteran. Shedletsky locked eyes with him.

“Hey, n7? Had I woken you up too?” 

Builderman shot Shedletsky a stare that probably meant that he’d likely woken up everyone in the opposite room, but 007n7, caught under the former admin’s gaze, quickly shook his head.

“No, I was awake already,” 007n7 murmured.

Dusekkar, still searching the closet, paused and offered a quick apology, "Tell the others we apologize for the noise, we hope your waking hours don't hurt your poise."

007n7 offered a small nod in response to the collective, awkward apology and took a sharp U-turn back into the other room. He was instantly met with Elliot’s gaze. Elliot was upright in his bunk, a picture of irritable exhaustion. He hadn't bothered to go to the other room, waiting instead for the drama to migrate back to him. Two time was still sound asleep, strangely, or perhaps unsurprisingly, while Noob had rolled over with his pillow over his ears, and Chance was already out of bed.

“What was that?” Chance said groggily.

“Was just Shed kicking a bucket at 6am in the morning,” 007n7 replied, his tone flat, deliberately draining the event of any drama. He wanted the interaction over. Admins, he was already getting a headache. Such early morning activities were loud, and frankly, draining his energy.

“Average Shed activities, I suppose,” Chance let out a little laugh, shaking his head. “Seeing as ’m already awake, might as well go wash up and get ready for the morning.”

Chance left the room, and the room was back in silence. 007n7 supposed he would do the same.

The main lobby was already bustling with energy. 007n7 kept his head down, not willing for more interaction before the sun actually rose. He left through the main door, a couple studs away from Chance, before going into the lake to bathe. 

The water was basically freezing cold. 

007n7 didn't hesitate. He waded into the shallows, the icy water instantly numbing his skin and stealing his breath. He quickly scrubbed his body and the shirt, the harsh soap doing its best to fight the persistent smell of fear.

007n7 had long gotten used to bathing in the lake. They’d all been in damnation for so long, and without proper showers, it was no longer a strange sight to see each other partially naked, but 007n7 still averted his eyes out of respect, staring at the lake bottom.

007n7 momentarily dunked his head underwater, relishing in the cool sensation, before getting up for air. 

“This is probably the worst part of every cycle,” Chance said casually, his voice slightly strained from the cold, but he managed a grin. “Cold water, early start, and knowing the next few hours are going to suck. At least it clears the head, right?”

007n7 grunted in agreement, shivering. He quickly rinsed the soap from his body, the icy shock finally accomplishing what his consciousness could not: a momentary blankness.

"You know, you looked pretty pale when you came out," Chance continued, nodding toward 007n7's form. "Like, even paler than usual. Not to be weird, man, but are you alright? You didn't, uh, hit your head when Shed dropped that thing, did you?"

He immediately winced at his own words, realizing how poorly they were landing in the icy quiet.

"I mean, I know you were already awake, so it wasn't the sound, but you were still standing there, like, frozen," Chance stammered, his eyes darting quickly from the water to the treeline and back, clearly uncomfortable with his own attempt at showing concern. "Forget I said anything. Just... concentrate on the soap. Yeah. Good soap." He quickly dunked his head under the water, splashing himself and effectively ending the clumsy conversation with a cold, wet escape.

007n7 let out a silent, internal sigh of relief as Chance dunked his head. He wrung out his wet shirt, gave a curt nod to Chance, who had only had his head above water, and waded out of the lake.

After changing into regular attire and making sure noobie was safe atop his burger hat, 007n7 headed back to the main room. 

The main room was already bustling with energy. All the survivors from the other room were already up and ready, with Builderman preparing food. Breakfast that morning was bread and scrambled eggs. Veeronica was powering up, Shed was chatting animatedly with Dusekkar. Noob, Guest and Elliot brushed past 007n7 as they exited through the main door, likely to go wash in the lake as well, and Two Time was, as usual, still asleep. No one really knew when or how Two Time got ready in the morning. Not that 007n7 was curious enough to find out.

007n7 took a seat right in the corner of the table, as he usually did. Away from attention and away from everyone. The other survivors also paid him no mind. 

007n7 didn’t know when, but he’d woken up with his face in his arms, slumped over the table. He’d unknowingly dozed off while waiting for the others to come have breakfast. He’d noticed Taph looking in his general direction- as much as he could tell, at least, no one could see under the demolitionist’s hood. Everyone was at the table already, and 007n7 had instinctually woken up just before breakfast was served. Noob’s hair was still slicked back from lake water, and Elliot wasn't wearing his hat yet, bright blonde hair sticking out in a messy ponytail. 

007n7 still remembered when the pizza worker made an effort to keep their hair short.

007n7 quickly righted his burger hat and attempted to look less like he’d just been sleeping on the table. He was spared the need to initiate conversation, however, as Builderman began dividing the scrambled eggs and bread onto chipped metal plates, distributing the portions around the table.

The conversation around the table quickly turned to strategy, less out of genuine novelty and more out of habit.

"So, the usual plan, then?" Shedletsky asked, spearing a piece of bread, already chewing. "Run gens, avoid Noli…"

Builderman sighed, looking weary. "There are no new objectives, Shed. It’s the same 5 gens. And we can't 'avoid' Noli. He's too fast, and his Void Rush is getting frustratingly good."

Guest 1337, typically the most focused on tactics, spoke while methodically cutting his eggs. "We need to prioritize efficiency. Sentinels focus on drawing aggression away from those locations where the Killer usually targets the others. Everyone else stick to the buddy system; one person repairing, one covering their six."

007n7 listened, picking at his food. There was hardly anything new to discuss. The games had gotten boring and repetitive. The Spectre rarely introduced new challenges, and since the addition of Noli—the newest, fastest killer—the survivors had just adapted to an even tighter cycle of running, hiding, and repairing. Every conversation was a rehash of the last.

"We need to stick close to the high ground. Easier to juke, and 1x especially struggles with verticality," Elliot suggested, though his heart wasn't entirely in it. He looked more interested in finishing his eggs quickly.

A silence of unending futility settled upon the room.

Just as the timer ticked down to zero, 007n7 waited for the inevitable sensation of being sent to a round. He braced for teleportation, and…

nothing happened. 

“Is it me or are we all still here…” Noob said, trailing off. 007n7 looked around. Yep, everyone was very much still in the room. Not just the 2 leftover since the maximum amount in a round was 8, but every single survivor was still in the cabin.

“No round today? That’s a first.” Chance commented offhandedly, glancing around.

“Something’s not right…” Dusekkar said, pose stiff and wary. “Something’s going on.”

007n7 flinched.

‘✝️💩, 🤔 🗣️ 👆’ (Holy sh#t, who said that?)

The whole cabin was silent. 

“What may that be, and who are you?” Builderman said assertively, standing up from his chair and looking around. 

The voice drawled on mockingly.

“Cut to the chase. Tell us who you are, and get to the point.” Guest 1337 was visibly agitated now.

What was this voice getting at?

At the corner of 007n7’s vision, Two Time fell to their knees, muttering frantic pleas to the Spawn. 

“Oh spawn, please, oh, thank the spawn, all praise be to thy holiness…” 

He could see Noob throw a hand over their mouth. 

“O-Oh no…Vee, what are we gonna do?”

Veeronica’s screen had dimmed, a worried expression. 

Shedletsky’s face was darkened, a shadow falling over his face. 

The expression on Builderman’s face was one of dread.

Dussekar was frighteningly silent.

Admins, n7 felt dizzy.

Just slightly, he shifted his gaze over to Elliot. 

Elliot was staring at his hands, and slowly looked up and met 007n7’s gaze.

That was the same look he had given 007n7 in the dream.

He’s a killer, 007n7. Didn’t you hear what he said, he said we could escape if we just eliminated one–

Elliot was facing him.

This is our only chance of freedom, 007n7. Are you seriously risking all that for a stupid killer?

Elliot was approaching him.

Elliot wanted to kill c00lkidd. 

Admins, 007n7 was so screwed.