Lungs and Livers

He can feel his heart thumping like a kick drum in his chest. His palms are uncomfortably slick, but he can't wipe them off on his grubby pants due to the hard restraints encircling his wrists. He breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth to delay the nausea creeping up from his churning belly.

Why the hell did he agree to this?

Oh, well, the money, of course, but the kinda dough he got really isn't worth it anymore. Still. He can't say no now. Usually he would spin the fuckers a yarn and sprint to the nearest exit, be it a window or a door, cash in-hand.

Not these guys, though. No, they're smart. They gave him his cash, led him to the surgical room, trapped him and strapped him in. No Zydrate, either.

Graverobber curses himself for being more concerned about the money in his hand than the actual set-up that's now taking place. Of course they wouldn't give him Z – it costs – and of course they wouldn't give him an opportunity to get away, because they need his perfectly healthy kidney.

His lungs are a bust from smoking and his liver is a little pickled, but his kidney... Man, it has one hell of a good price in this city, which is why he's been selling it all over the place but this time, he's been caught out.

Shilo had told him not to go out again today. He'd told her he just wanted to net a few more credits for the baby.

"Such a fucking idiot," Graverobber snarls under his breath as he leans back in the uncomfortable seat he's strapped to. "She's always right."

His eyes unwillingly dart about the semi-sterile room. Mould is growing in one corner and the tiled floor is a dirty grey. The white walls are stained, and he wonders how this operation is about to go down.

Are they gonna let him keep his cash or watch him bleed out? It's not like anyone but the pregnant woman waiting at home is gonna miss him.

He absently wonders how far his blood will spurt.

He feels sick. His hands begin to shake. The chair creaks from the effort he expends to break the restraints around his ankles.

The door behind him opens.

Graverobber can't turn his head far, the chair blocking the view over his shoulder, and he just prays to whatever deity exists far above this shithole that they're coming in with an actual doctor and actual surgical tools. Not just a guy and a blade.

His heartbeat thrums in his ears. He licks his dry lips, trying to think of something clever to say that will make the guy behind him just magically let him go. But even he's not that good.

His silver tongue only gets him so far, as Shilo frequently reminds him.

"Listen–" He begins, but is cut off by the door closing.

Footsteps circle him. He strains to see over his shoulder, his breath coming thick and fast, before a dark form flits in front of him.

She doesn't look best pleased.

His breath leaves him in a rush and he gives her a sloppy, relieved grin. He should be pissed that she's come out of hiding just to save his sorry ass, but he doesn't have the energy. He knows this is his fault.

Shilo's dark eyes roll down his bare chest, stopping at the scrawled line that marks his proffered organ. She looks pissed.

"I should just let you get another scar," she mutters, putting her balled fists on her hips.

The motion makes her rounded belly jut out, and he can't help the thrill he feels every time he sees the evidence of them, being together.

Her hair is wet – freshly washed, he'd guess, from the scent she's brought into the grimy room – and her clothes have been thrown on, because he can see her dark red coat's on inside-out and her short, black dress does little to disguise the fact that she hasn't got any underwear on.

He eyes her up. "I fucking love you."

One dark brow cocks on her pale face. "Good thing I fucking love you too."

She crouches awkwardly, mindful of the baby-bump, in front of him and begins to tug at the restraints. He's so glad she's actually here to rescue him he can barely lift a finger to help.

Shilo pulls a bobby pin from behind her ear with a grunt. "Next time, when I tell you not to fucking go out, you don't fucking go out."

"Yes, ma'am."

She gives him the bitchbrow and picks at the locks securing his hands and feet. It takes a couple of minutes, but the locks are old and she springs him in no time.

He takes to his wobbly legs and grabs his shirt and coat, slung on the floor from where they had been thrown after being torn off him. Graverobber wraps an arm about Shilo's waist and tugs her to the door.

"How'd you get in here, kitten?"

She gives him a short sigh. "The door? These guys are hacks, Graves. How the hell did you let them catch you?"

"I was distracted," he mutters, opening the door a crack to find the coast is clear.

They make their way with silent steps through the bare brick hallway and then out through the deserted warehouse. The high stacks of wrecked, wooden crates they have to navigate through to find the exit leaves them in shadow.


Some thug coming around a corner jolts to a halt ahead of them, but Shilo is too quick. His hairy, dirt-caked body hits the ground, a blade in his neck, before he has time to sound the alarm. The bag he had been carrying spills its contents in a sharp and dimly glittering wave, and Graverobber realises that this guy is the doctor.

He can't thank Shilo enough for her quick rescue.

Graves rips the knife from the guy's twitching body, blood spraying up, and wipes it off before handing it back to his lady. She smiles.

Eventually, they make it out through a busted side-door and into the city's back-alleys. They lose themselves in the grime and smoke, before cautiously making their way back home the long way in case they're being followed.

They've survived too long in this place to be anything but paranoid. Especially now they have a little hell-raiser on the way.

And how can their kid be anything but trouble, with Graverobber's talent for talking and Shilo's brains? He can't wait to see the kid grow up.

They arrive at their place off of Scion Way, and Graverobber slips aside the boards covering the dark-brick entrance so Shilo can get inside. He follows, securing the boards before trailing her downstairs, into their underground hideout. The upstairs is a junk-packed decoy, nothing more, but the downstairs is their little hive, secured by a secret entrance, a steel door, and about twenty deadbolts.

They are wanted criminals after all.

When the door is sealed shut behind them, Shilo turns to him.

"That was really fucking stupid," she says, rubbing her eyebrow and unconsciously touching her belly too.

Graverobber pulls a handful of credits out of his jingling coat pocket. "Yeah, but now we can get that cot, you know, the blue one you saw?"

"You did all that so we could get a cradle?" She asks, eyes wide, disbelief scrawled on every inch of her face.

He puts the money away and takes her in his arms. She lets him. Her hair is damp and sweet-smelling, and he has to ask her, soft against her ear.

"How did you know where I was?"

She sighs, and her hot breath on the cool skin of his neck makes him shiver. "I knew something was wrong. The baby wasn't kicking and the bath felt too big..." He waits for her to finish. "I went looking for you. Polly showed up on Sanitarium Square, told me she'd sent you to the docks and how my other baby would be next."

Polly, an ex-client from Graverobber's Z-peddling days, had told him there were people down in the warehouses looking for good organs. She must have known he wouldn't have come out of there alive. He'd fucked her once, when she was low on cash and needed a hit, and she's had a thing for him ever since. He never thought it would turn murderous.

Before he can ask what happened, Shilo looks up at him with those big, doe eyes and gives him a grin. "She won't be making any more trouble."

Graverobber immediately picks her up and carries her from the bare hallway they were standing in to their cosy sitting room. The furniture's all stolen and a total mishmash, but when he's sitting on their battered, red velvet settee with Shilo curled around him, the place could be burning and he wouldn't care.

He sets them both up in his favourite position, tucked into the corner of the settee with Shilo on his lap, and just holds her there for a minute.

"You're an idiot sometimes," she tells him, running her delicate fingers through his tangled, coloured hair and kissing his neck.

He sighs. "Yeah. I know."

His hands wander as his mind does, to far more pleasant places, pushing off her coat and tugging at her dress. She laughs roughly in his ear, turning him hard in an instant.

Her tongue does wicked things to his neck. His hands return the favour and find that she really doesn't have underwear on.

"I was in a rush," she tells his raised eyebrow and his smirk.

"I'm not complaining," Graverobber growls.

With a little careful rearranging, his pants are undone and he's inside her.

Her breath runs down his neck as she grips his shoulders and sighs in his ear. He rocks into her in their practised way, mindful of the baby, and strokes his hands down her curved spine.

He loves this, the passion and intimacy and fucking fireworks every time she comes anywhere near him, let alone when he's inside her. She's the best fuck he's ever had, and he loves her. He always thought he'd be lucky if he got a girl he could see without having to pay her for her time.

Then there was Shilo that grey morning, knocking on the lid of his dumpster and looking for someone to train her up to make some cash. He trained her alright, gave her knife skills and street smarts the like of which were second only to his. Not anymore though – she's surpassed him now.

She taught him how to hunt down Z-sucking bugs, and how to cook. They started up their 'thing' soon after, and then he...well, he just fell in love with her long socks and quick smiles.

She's a fucking firecracker, too, especially when she's pissed off, and she never fails to let him know it. And now, she's going to be a mother – a great one, too – and she's given him the honour of letting him be the daddy.

He hadn't been sure at first, arrogant and insecure, but she'd shown him everything he had ever wanted from life, and their kid had become the cherry on top.

Shilo tugs his hair, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Graves..."

He groans into the crook of her neck. "Say it again, kitten. Please, Shilo."

"Graves...I'm nearly there..."

He kisses her stupid, tasting his name on her lips, and he comes, wringing every ounce of energy from his slick and aching body. Shilo trembles through her own bliss, clutching him close and making him dizzy with her talented tongue.

Graverobber grips her thigh and helps her down from her high, stroking her back and pulling away from their kiss to croon in her ear. She laughs where her head rests against his shoulder.


"The baby's kicking," she whispers, pulling his hand to cover the curve of her belly.

True to her word, the little thing's bouncing around like a champ. The smile that crosses Graverobber's face is wide and oozes satisfaction.

"It knows Daddy's home again," he tells her, and he feels her smile pressed to his collarbone.

There's a lull for a moment, and as the silence drifts so does he, slipping in and out of sleep, warm and at peace.

Shilo's soft voice rouses him. "So...when can we buy the cot?"

He gives her a gruff laugh, before pulling her down further onto the settee with him to sleep off the day.

Author's note: Man, it's been ages since I traversed the seas of one-shot Grilo! In fact, it's two days shy of a whole year exactly! Wooow. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this little look into their future. I like skimming through their timeline, writing about them getting together, being together, having a baby, etc. Expect more soon, and definitely something looking into their lives with their little hell-raiser growing up!