sS0Lxx
⚠️ Trigger Warnings (Read First):
this story includes themes of suicide, grief, emotional trauma, death of a child (implied), violence, arson, and mental health struggles. nothing is written for shock value, and heavier scenes will be handled with care. angst is medium-range, never overwhelming. reader discretion is advised.
🔻 ships featured:
pizzaburger (elliott x 007n7) - enemies to reluctant allies to something more
doublefedora (chance x mafioso) - rivals with tension that turns magnetic
other dynamics/side pairings may appear
after the fire, after the gunshot, after everything he ruined-7n wakes up in a place that isn't hell but sure as hell isn't peace. he's stuck between what was and what might still be salvageable. the kid's gone. the code's broken. and the team? they want nothing to do with him. except one.
elliot should hate him, has reason to, but hatred takes effort. effort he doesn't have anymore.
meanwhile, in the mess of gangs and smoke, a misstep changes everything.
mafioso was tracking a debt that didn't exist. the intel was wrong, the face misidentified, but one of his own didn't wait for confirmation. they held the man in the backroom of a casino-silent, cuffed, confused. when mafioso realized the mistake, he ran to stop it, but the shot was already fired. the bullet hit the gambler's skull. clean. fatal. too late. the name he caught in passing: Chance.
mafioso carried that mistake without knowing the man, just the weight of getting it wrong. he'd seen death. caused it. but that one? it stuck.
he didn't last long after that.
not from guilt he didn't even know the man, but from everything else. the long nights. the bodies. the life that only ever paid in blood.
they found him in his office, head leaned back like he was just thinking too hard.
no note. no wound. just quiet. grief doesn't always scream.