AN: Hello, there! This is the first fanfiction I have written for Repo, which is pretty exciting seeing as it's currently my favourite film. This idea has been bugging me for ages now and I just felt the need to get it down somewhere so that it would leave me alone and I could get back to studying for my exams. I'm just hoping that the characterisation is ok! I think this will be primarily a Pavi/Shilo fanfiction (OTP haha.) I'm not really sure why I find this pairing so fascinating and frankly unsettling, but I really do. This is not going to be a happy chappy lovey dovey fanfiction. It's just not. No point in pretending it is. It's Pavi. I'm not exactly sure how long this will run on for (this chapter was my main idea but I'm sure I'll come up with more) so I suppose we'll just have to see. Taking this into consideration, it's being rated M for likely later content. I have read over this, but I'm not so good at looking for typos/mistakes. So please excuse any you may see. All of that being said, enjoy!

Warnings: No sexual content in this chapter, a little blood and just... Pavi being his creepy self, I guess. Shilo in a bath, if that counts. Idek.

Disclaimer: I do not own Repo! The Genetic Opera in any way.

::This isn't Genetic Emancipation ::

Pavi Largo was not a foolish man. Contrary to what the public tended to believe about the generally rather relaxed Italian playboy, Paviche had his own motives and he knew exactly how to carry them out. And that was precisely what he was doing; hunting out the precious little jewel that his siblings sought to merely cast off like a pest. Pavi could see potential in things that others often could not – perhaps it was a talent which came from being such a connoisseur of beauty. And Shilo Wallace was not something to be simply wiped out. If she could not offer him some 'entertainment,' then she could at least give him her pretty face. And, knowing his ruthless older brother, if the GENcops got to her there would be nothing left of that pretty face to preserve; a most unfortunate result.

Now, he had to go about this carefully. The young girl would most likely be terrified, shaken after the brutal deaths of both her father and godmother, soaked in the blood of both of them. She would want a hand to hold, a shoulder to cry on, perhaps. And Pavi would be the one to offer her comfort... for now, at least. Slow and steady wins the race, he reminded himself. Though, unfortunately, Paviche Largo was not the most patient of men. Scarred lips twitched into a small smirk underneath the dead skin of the mask which was currently clamped onto his own. He only hoped that he had been right in his assumptions that the young Wallace girl would run back home. He really did not feel like having the limousine in which he was currently sitting trawl all over the city looking for her. Surely the little lamb would be too afraid to wander the streets... however, people had been known to do stranger things when grieving. Nathan Wallace himself was testament to that.

Luckily, when the car finally rolled to a shuddering halt outside the Wallace residence, Pavi could quite clearly see that the gate was open. Had the girl forgotten to close it? Perhaps she simply didn't know how. It was not as though she had needed to use it over the past seventeen years, of course.

Stepping out of the car, Pavi made his way up the drive curiously, fine Italian leather boots crunching rather satisfactorily on the small stones. Through the wrought iron gate and up over stone steps before finally coming to the front door, which was closed. He could, however, make out a small, bleary dark shape on the other side of the glass, though it appeared to be quite far away. He guessed that this was Shilo. Trying his luck, he pulled down on the handle and, as luck would have it, the girl had been foolish enough to leave the door unlocked. It protested with a low creak as he swung it open and he was treated to the sight of the petite girl huddled on the staircase, her pale arms polluted with the blood of those who had died. Her previously smooth black hair was matted with the same red substance, which had congealed to form unsightly clumps. She cringed as he stepped through the door and looked as though she were about to skirt back away from him, however, the stairs behind her prevented her from doing so. Huddled close to the banister, doe eyes stared up at him as he came forward, the soles of his shoes clicking against the floor with each step he took, and blinked back tears, looking for all the world as though she expect him to pull out a knife at any moment.

Giving a slight tilt of his head, the lips of his mask pulled into a sort of smirk as he stared down at her, his gaze hungry. Luckily, he had just enough time before leaving Sanitarium to have a few of the GENterns fix in place his newest and greatest face, that of a pleasant young opera attendee. After all, he had to look his best if he was going to see such a lovely girl. His heart beat just a little faster as his memory flickered back for an instant to his sister's fallen face. Though he not acquired it yet, he was certain that it would not be too long until he did and, oh, Pavi could not wait until it was his to add to his little collection. But no, his thoughts were wandering. Now was the time for focus.

"Ciao, bella," he hummed. "The Pavi had-a hoped he would-a find you here. And-a before the GENcops! Molto bene." Her eyes widened in the most delightfully frightened manner and she leaned back further away from him as he came to a stop right in front of her, leaning one forearm on the banister and peering down at her in interest. She trembled like the most delicate leaf, shaking her head in horror at the mention of the GENcops. "Ah, no, cara mia, not to worry. If-a you listen to the Pavi, you will-a come to no harm, si?" Tucking his fingertips beneath her sharply pointed little chin, he tilted her head back to meet his hungry gaze, at which she let out a muted whimper and tugged her chin from his grasp, taking him by surprise. He had rather expected her to be grateful for his help.

"Please don't touch me."

The whisper was so weak that he barely heard, but he did and for a moment he was at a loss. He had expected her to be upset, of course, but not quite this distraught. Pavi, of course, did not remember what it was like to lose everything that one's very existence rested upon. He too had lost his father that night, however, he had done his grieving – brief though it may have been. The paternal bonds between Rotti and any of his degenerate children were so weakened over the years of their being steeped in sin that any form of relationship was practically irredeemable. Pavi had accepted that, though he seemed to be experiencing a little difficulty understanding the frightened, broken little girl in front of him. He had lost his face, however, and that had been everything. That had been his existence. And without it, he was sent spiralling into a kind of madness. Paviche Largo was not a 'well' man.

"Listen to-a me, Shilo," he began eventually with a withering sort of sigh, "Either you-a do what I say and-a live, or-a you refuse my help and-a die." He offered a hand to her. "Which will it be, cara?"

Shilo glanced from his hand to his stolen face and back again, something almost calculating in her deep brown eyes. However, hesitantly, she slipped her trembling hand into his and allowed him to help her into a standing position, though her frame was still notably shaky. Clever girl. A smile somewhat curved the lips of the mask. Usually, he would be tempted to slip his arm around her waist, but she was of course still covered in blood and his clothes were new and dreadfully expensive. So for now, he contented himself with holding onto the slender hand.

"Now, bella, I think that-a first we should-a get you cleaned up, hm?" he suggested and had he not been wearing someone else's face, perhaps Shilo could have labelled him as kind. She gave a small nod, nonetheless. "You will-a have to show-a me to a bathroom in that case." That phrase alone should have set off the alarm bells in Shilo's mind, however, she was too tired and too afraid to question it so she merely led him upstairs silently.

At first she was unsure which bathroom to use, but eventually settled on the small en suite connected to her bedroom. It was the bathroom she was the most familiar with, after all. Perhaps it would be more comfortable for her. She tried to ignore how he peered at her belongings as she led him through her bedroom – those were her private things. Pavi Largo had no right to look at them. Upon reaching her destination, she slipped her hand out of his so that she could step forward to turn on the taps, before looking at him rather pointedly. Apparently, he did not get the hint.

"Aren't..." Her throat was dry. She cleared it, dampened her lips slightly in a nervous little gesture and tried again. "Aren't you going to wait outside?"

"Ah, but bella," a small smirk, "You are-a terribly tired, no? And-a whatever would-a happen if you were-a to fall asleep in the bath, hm? Besides, you are-a covered," he animated this by running a strand of soiled hair between two pale fingertips. "You will-a need help to clean this off."

The thought of him seeing her naked sent a violent shudder through Shilo. After all, she was a very private person and her life was generally a very private affair. No-one had seen her naked, not since her dad had bathed her when she was very small. And, of course, things would have... changed since then. But she knew that without his help, she was as good as dead. Still...

"At least turn around," she implored him, a hint of desperation entering her tone. And with the way her large eyes stared at him, still brimming with unshed tears, Pavi obediently turned, though not without giving a slight raise of his brow before doing so.

With his back to her, she fumbled with her clothes, aiming for speed which her trembling fingers did not allow. The boots went first and they were difficult, but in the end she tore them off, followed by her knee high socks. Then came the small electronic wrist band and the bloodied net sleeves. She hesitated before removing her wig, but decided that it would likely come off in the water anyway. That joined the growing pile. And at last, her heart squeezing uncomfortably with nerves, she fiddled with the zip of the small black dress, the stained material sliding from her pale body and fluttering to the floor. Without giving him the chance to turn around, she slipped quickly into the bath, which was now thankfully full enough to cover any private areas that that she would rather he didn't see. Even so, she drew her knees up to her chest... just in case.

When he heard the water, he turned around and immediately set his eyes roaming deviously over the smooth skin that was unveiled. It was only after a moment that he noticed the girl's hairlessness, however, it did not bother him. After all, it did not deduct from her beauty. Besides, side effects of the poison in her system were to be expected. Removing his coat and rolling up the sleeves of the shirt underneath (he couldn't have them getting wet, after all, he thought with a smirk) he sank to his knees beside the relatively large tub and she stared at him as though he were a dangerous animal. He delighted at the way the now very slightly pink water lapped at the milky skin of her thigh. Usually, the thought of Pavi Largo doing something like this was quite ludicrous. Pavi Largo did not help other people. However, he was not adverse to the idea of allowing his hands to wander over the body of a pretty young girl.

A small bar of soap and sponge sat on the edge of the bath. They would prove to be very useful. Running the soap over her dirtied shoulder blades he immediately began to gently sponge the blood from the pale back unveiled to him, noticing how Shilo stiffened beneath his touch, before resting her cheek against her drawn up knees. It would appear that she was in no condition to be putting up a fight of any kind. That was good.

"Now-a, bella, it would-a seem that you may have-a... hit mia sorella where it-a hurts, si?"

"I didn't-"

He cut her off with a smile. "Si, bella, I know. It was-a not your fault. But Amber..." he paused her a moment, shaking his head slightly and continuing to sponge the water over her back and shoulders. "She does-a not see it that way. She was-a always a daddy's girl and-a you can imagine how it-a stung when Papa wanted to use you as a... replacement. And-a Luigi is-a more concerned that you will-a try to take-a Geneco."

Shilo was silent for a moment, before she finally constructed her thoughts into a sentence. "I don't want it. I never wanted it. I don't know why... why..." Her throat constricted uncomfortably and she tried hard to swallow the lump that had been gradually building up and then the bitter tears were falling because she didn't know why; didn't know why Rotti had chosen her to unload his burden onto, why daddy had to die, and even Mag, the woman she had watched and admired since childhood. All of them were dead, gone, never coming back and now she was all on her own. She noted briefly that Pavi had now moved onto her arms. The water was becoming steadily more red.

"Si, tesora, I know. It would-a be a shame for-a such a pretty face to go to-a waste," he added, somewhat mournfully and a shiver ran down her spine. "Which is-a why I came-a looking for you. Mia fratelli would-a be quick to waste your potential." She didn't know what he meant by that. What could she possibly have to offer him? She decided that perhaps she didn't want to know.

After a quick scrubbing of her bloodied knees, Paviche lifted a large towel from a nearby rack, handing it over to her. She hesitated for a moment, before spreading it out to form a screen, standing and winding it around herself. He held out a hand to her and she froze for a moment, staring at the offered hand as though it were poisonous.

"I only want-a to help you out of the bath, bella," he assured her, the eyebrow of the mask quirking very slightly. "You are-a still a little unsteady, si?"

She had to admit that when she glanced down at the wine red of the water, her head did spin a little. Not to mention that she had been denied her 'medication' for so long now. Eventually she did take hold of his hand, holding her towel up with the other, and allowed him to help her lift her legs over the sides and back into the bedroom.

"You may-a dry yourself and-a change. But-a you may need to pack some spare clothes." She frowned – he was taking her away for that long? This did not seem to bother him. "I will-a wait outside."

When he was gone and she was finally alone, Shilo sat down somewhat shakily on her bed, the towel still wrapped around her. So much had happened in this one night, too much to take in. And now Pavi Largo was here just... expecting her to trust him? She remembered how he too had taunted her father at the opera, his falsetto voice trilling in its sing-song manner in her ear. "Did you know he killed your mother?" How he had cackled at her look of horror, arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. But it was either him or the GENcops and, for now at least, he did not seem to want her dead. With that in mind, she slowly set about drying herself, running the towel down milky legs.

She did not know what to wear. Did it really matter? No, she supposed not. She settled on a simple, black baby doll style dress, pulling on a pair of thigh high socks and boots with it. She had forgotten to remove her mother's necklace before getting in the bath and it still hung, its heavy weight comforting, around her neck. Fortunately, she had more than one wig. "Just in case," her father had said. She was glad that he had been such a cautious man now. She was unsure why, but she did not like Pavi seeing her without hair. It made her feel somewhat vulnerable; deeply uncomfortable.

Her messenger bag was fairly big – it would do for the essentials. She tossed in whatever she could find numbly. A few shirts, a skirt or perhaps two, a dress and – oh yes, of course! She would need underwear. And her nightdress, of course. Toothbrush, hairbrush... how long would she be away for? Suddenly, her eyes caught on the photographs lined up along her shelves. Her and her father, one or two smaller ones of her mother. She removed these from their frames, stuffing them away with her clothes. Daddy... He had poisoned her. He had lied to her. He had locked her away. She shouldn't love him, but she did. He was her father. He had protected her, kept her safe. He was the only person who had ever said "I love you, Shi." The bitter part of her argued that it was because he was the only person who knew of her existence, but she pushed that away quickly. He was dead now. He couldn't hurt her, unintentionally or otherwise, anymore.

She was somewhat lost in her thoughts, until she heard a commotion on the driveway and flitted over to the window, peering out carefully. It appeared that Pavi had not been wrong when he had said that the GENcops were coming for her. The sight of them making their way up to the front door sent a thrill of terror through her. There were so many of them.

"Bella," a sharp rap at the door. "I will-a have to-a hurry you a little."

Tearing her gaze away from the window, she hurried to open the door where Pavi Largo was standing looking a little impatient. "Now, cara, you will-a have to-a trust me, si? If-a you come quietly, you will-a come to no harm. Amber does-a not want you executed on-a sight. I believe she would-a rather do that herself. I will-a bring you back to the Towers and-a we will have a discussion with mia fratelli." Shilo stared at him incredulously. He was bringing her to them? All this was for nothing. She was going to die anyway. Worse – she was going to die at the hands of the Largos, who would undoubtedly make her death as painful as possible. But hey, maybe Pavi would get a new face out of all of this.

She pulled back from him, somewhere between disgusted and terrified. "I... I can't, I'm not going. I don't want to." He frowned. She could see that much, even taking the mask into consideration.

"Trust me, bella. I will-a make my brother and sister see sense. But, if-a you make a fuss, the GENcops will not-a hesitate in-a harming that pretty face. Now come with-a me, bella." At the low threat in his voice and the sudden coldness in his eyes, Shilo was a little startled. However, she stepped through the door, bag still clutched close to her, resigned to the fact that he would not take 'no' for an answer. He smirked. "Good-a girl."

Quite suddenly, Shilo found herself pressed up against the playboy's side as he guided her firmly down the stairs, as though worried she would slip away and make a break for freedom. It appeared that the GENcops were trying to break down the door... the door which was already unlocked. When they succeeded in doing so, Pavi held up a hand for calm. "Not-a to worry," he announced rather cheerfully, "She is-a coming quietly. I will-a bring her to-a my brother and sister."

The GENcops seemed rather confused for a moment – as though they did not know whether they should let Pavi do as he pleased, or take Shilo by force. Eventually, Pavi spoke with a rather harsh, "You may-a leave now." And they did obey, filing out, though it appeared that they meant to escort them back to Largo Towers, which did not overly bother Pavi – he had gotten his way, after all. He hurried a silent, apparently rather frightened Shilo through the door and down to the limousine which was waiting for him, giving her a little push and urging her inside. Once settled on the plush leather lining of the seat, she was tugged unceremoniously underneath the arm of the middle Largo child, help securely to his side. Were she not almost certain he was the key to her survival, perhaps she would have complained.

Thankfully, Pavi was silent for the duration of the journey, the only noise the car engine and the speakers and sirens of the following GENcops. Shilo was thankful for this. She wasn't sure if she could handle anymore talking from him. That dreadful falsetto voice imploring her to trust him, mockingly complimenting her pretty face. But, whether she liked it or not, she needed him onside.

When they finally reached Largo Towers, her stiff little frame still pulled close to the warmth of his side, he gave her a gaudy grin. "Come along, bella." And, oh, Shilo wished that she had not returned home after the fateful opera.