Disclaimer: I own nothing from Repo! The Genetic Opera. Assume this statement extends to the whole fan fiction.

Author's Note: Hey, it's me again. My new obsession is Repo! The Genetic Opera. In particular, I like the Grilo pairing. Here's my attempt at a Repo! fanfiction. Tell me what you think!

Graverobber sat atop his usual dumpster near the entrance to an alleyway. He had found a nearly-perfect apple with only a couple bites taken from it. He wiped the apple on his dingy shirt and happily began to eat his special find.

The sound of staggering footsteps drew his attention from his meal. Looking up, he saw the thin form of the girl he'd seen on the flying televisions in the sky. As she tripped into the alley, he noticed an abundance of coagulated blood covering her once-pale arms with crimson.

He hopped down from his perch and approached the distraught young woman. "Kid? Hey, are you alright?" he asked, fearing he would have to explain a dead kid in his alley.

Without any warning, she latched onto him, wrapping her arms around his fur-covered shoulders. She sobbed into his shoulder, her tears wetting his coat all the way through.

"Kid, really, are you hurt or anything?" he pulled her forcefully from him, trying his best not to hurt her.

Her eyes were red and swollen from crying and she whispered between hiccups, "I'm not hurt, I don't think."

"Whose blood is this, then, kid?" he asked, scraping some of the congealed blood from her arms.

"It's from my…my dad," she said, breaking back into uncontrollable sobs. She again pressed herself into his chest, making him uncomfortable all over again.

"Kid, you've got to let go of me. I get that you lost your dad and all, but I'm not the best guy to cling to for this kind of thing," he said, trying to pry her away from him.

"Please, I can't be alone right now," she whined against his shirt. "Mag is gone and so is my dad. Please, just don't leave me," she pleaded, gripping him more tightly.

He sighed and looked around, afraid some Z addict might see him in such a reputation-killing position. "I suppose I could take you home or something."

"No…please don't make me go back there!"

He rolled his eyes and thought about what he could do. "I guess I might have a place to put you. I can't guarantee I'll be there, but you'll be taken care of."

"Thank you," she whispered as he picked her up off of the cold ground. He sighed and carried her small body through the winding alleyways of the city.

He kicked away Z addicts that accosted them as he carried her. He didn't have any Zydrate with him anyway, and he'd have to fix that later.

After a while, her crying ceased and he set her on her own two feet. "Can you keep up, kid?"

She nodded and replied, "I think so. Sorry for getting your coat all wet."

He shrugged and gave her a quick smirk before pulling her along through the secret passageways of the city's underground catacombs. She studied the walls of the tunnels, making faces at the sticky appearance of them.

Graverobber shoved her up a ladder leading to the streets above. When he climbed up behind her, he again took her hand and led her across the deserted street. They walked up cement steps to a house comparable to Shilo's old one.

He knocked on the door in a specific rhythm, telling the owner that he was a friend. The old oak of the door was a foreign look for such a mechanized city. Shilo tentatively reached out and ran her hand down the wood's grain, but pulled her hand back as the door opened.

"Clare, I'm glad you're awake," said Graverobber quietly. "I have a charge for you."