Title: The Devil's Favor

Author: Eeevee

Rating: T for language

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Baccano! All characters are property of their respective creators.

Author's note: May be a few discrepancies with the anime/novels. Dedicated to my wonderful friend who made me sit down and watch Baccano! PS. I still don't like HSB; I think he's a slimball :)

I knew this was probably not the most genius idea I'd ever had. Hell, it was downright stupid. I knew it was stupid, but I needed to do something with my youth. I wasn't going to be like my naïve little sister, rotting away in some mansion doing what daddy dearest and big brother Jeffery wanted. Man, it's just too bad I wasn't there when they were offed. That would've been a sight to see. As it was I could barely keep myself from spitting on their graves.

I slammed my fist into a scummy wall. Fuck those thieves that 'stole my sadness.' I could've used that cash in the worst way. And little sister would've given hers over without a peep if I asked.

She was too goddamn nice and sheep-like for her own good.

And why shouldn't she be? Locked up like a princess in a fairytale for fifteen years, the darling of the family. The sweet, pretty, obediently little doll that prayed on fucking command. It was sickening. And I was just Dallas the dumbass. Dallas the slave. Dallas the scapegoat. I was the pathetic, whiny, useless black sheep and treated that way… until I fought back, rebelled. And then I was dangerous. Ha, yeah, dangerous enough to kick out on the streets. Well, I was still alive and indestructible to boot while they were feeding the worms.

If I believed in that shit I'd say God had a wicked sense of humor.

And god dammit if the fucker wasn't laughing at the joke I was right now.

This was utterly stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Even my henchman had fled, probably thinking I was off my fucking rocker. Invincible didn't mean jack if the one you sought was also fucking invincible AND immortal. Not to mention that he put us in a fucking can of cement and sunk us in the river.

Do you know how god damn cruel that was?

At least I tried to make it quick with some tommy guns. Bam, blow their heads off and it's over. Well, after a few swings through their midsections. Okay, so a few more fucking seconds of revenge. I wasn't like those bastards deserved it anyway.

Not like drowning over and over again. I started shaking and shivering at the thought of the cold, filthy water pouring down my throat, choking me and clogging my lungs. Water came in my ears, busting the ear canals and leaking into my ear drums. My eyes pickled and swelled shut over time so all I could see was a haze. The panicked feeling over and over as I resurrected to new terror because I knew I wouldn't die but couldn't fight the instincts. My instinct drove me fucking crazy I tell you. It was amazing I got out at all.

Shakily I ran my fingers over my teeth still unable to believe that I chewed through cement. Fucking cement. I was god damn powerful to chew through cement with just my teeth. While drowning. Months, I spent months chewing and drowning.

And I wasn't going near a god damn bit of water ever again.

Just like I shouldn't be so fucking stupid. Maybe your instincts wore out after months of drowning?

Getting myself together, I barely dodge to the side as the very devil of my own personal, watery Hell sauntered by.

I peered out, pleased to note his fucking bear of a brother wasn't present. It was just that little brat in the green suit.

I froze as they walked by. The brat had a bottle of wine dangling neglectfully between two fingers and his hand was tilted a bit. The devil's eyes were near-shut but his steps were fairly straight and even. I found myself staring at him, unsure what exactly I wanted to do to him.

No, I knew what I fucking wanted to do to him. It was a matter of which order. Choke him to death with his goddamn tie or fuck him senseless into the dirty, seedy back alley until he wept for fucking mercy? Slice off his fingers and toes and nose piece by piece or pretend to be like the Gandor's dog and make ribbons out of his soft organs with scissors? Sadly enough, chewing, drowning, and terror limited my imagination. So for months I tried to come up with the perfect punishment for that fox-eyed bastard.

And now that I was here I froze like a god damn pussy.

"You truly are like a cockroach."

I shivered as his mocking voice floated across the alley. For a second I could feel the cold, slimy cement closing in around me and felt the vinyl of the card faces brush against me.

"No asinine proclamation of how you are going to get your revenge?" the footsteps paused as both men stopped. Luck slowly turned around and cocked his head, "Maybe the water damage made your smarter."

"F-f-fuck you!"

I hated myself for the quiver in my voice. If anything it seemed to amuse the sly bastard because his customary smirk deepened.

He walked towards me, the brat causally taking a sip of his wine in the background, and I stumbled back.

God damn fucking crazy. I didn't have anything on me to defend myself other than a knife. My numb fingers fumbled for the blade when strong fingers clamped on to my wrists. I was forcefully shoved back into the wall and pinned there.

Swearing and struggling I tried to knee him in the groin without much success. He merely pushed my legs to the side and pinned them too. I could feel the body heat through our clothing and felt his breath tickle the skin on my face. The liquor on his breath smelled sweet like honey.

"No, fuck you Dallas." He purred, pressing harder, and I started to feel the panic creeping up again. It really kicked in when his lips covered mine, restricting my air flow and invading my mouth with damp salvia. The back of mind considered that wine-flavored spit was better than bilge water, but the panic was clawing and tearing away through such trivial thoughts.

With strength born of terror, I ripped myself from his grasp. The cloth from the sleeve tore in his grasp and I stumbled over some trash bags. The cold concrete seeped through the seat of my pants but all I could do was grasp my chest with clawed hands and hyperventilate. Strangled moans seeped through my desperate gasps and my eyes were wide and unseeing.

It took several minutes for me to get my breathing under control. I peered up, expecting them to be gone, or a kick in the gut at least. Instead I saw the bastard peering down at me with a strange look on his face. He looked like he had gone and beat a fucking puppy or something.

He held out his hand and I flinched back. When it didn't strike, I mustered up my courage and swatted the offending thing away. It wasn't exactly what I wanted to do with his hand, but I was beyond pissed that he was toying with me. I wasn't a toy, god dammit.

"I don't need your fucking pity." I snarled, finally placing the look he had given me earlier.

His lips twisted back into their customary smirk, that god damn attractive smirk that made him such a mystery, and he put his hands in his pockets. He pulled out a piece of paper and dumped it unceremoniously on my head.

"Your sister has been searching for you." He said mildly making no move at all, just continued looking at me. I flared at the mention that he had seen my sister. How fucking dare he! Apparently my outrage showed on my face because a mirthless chuckle escaped his lips, "If you had half the balls that little girl had, you might even be worth something as a man."

Once again my fists moved before my brain did. He caught my fist and tugged it behind my back. His voice was soft and ominous in my ear, "I'll warn you this: watch out for my brothers, Dallas. Because I'm so generous, I won't mention our meeting, but if they see you… well, let's just say they better not see you. Do you understand me?"

Remembering Berga's massive fists and Keith's deadly glare I nodded silently. He let go but gave me a quick kiss on the forehead before striding back to the brat.

"Luck, I think you're a little drunk." The brat laughed, clearly finding the whole thing funny. Damn kid.

"Perhaps." He agreed not looking back.

The two disappeared around the corner and I stared after them for a few seconds. Gathering my scrambled brains back up, I picked up the piece of paper and recognized the scribbled address to the Daily Days. There was also a little note scrawled in spidery cursive:

'You are a tenacious bastard. You're not forgiven, but you can be more than human scum, or so your sister believes. If you can manage that and want to see me, you know where to find me. –Luck Gandor'

With a growl I crumpled the paper and threw it against the wall. That fucking bastard! Somehow he knew! And he thought it was god damn funny. He even carried around a note for me about it!

After giving the wall a few solid punches I started to stalk off. After a second thought, I hurried back and stuffed the paper in my pocket. A few glances around, just because I was now very aware of who's turf I was skulking in now, I went the opposite way of my devil.

I would take the invitation. And next time I would be prepared.