Chapter Text
{3RD PERSON POV}
Chance wasn't too happy that Mafioso had left before he got to say goodbye.
They rubbed their eyes, opening them blearily. The warm spot where Mafioso used to be was gone, replaced by the harsh reality of emptiness. He's supposed to be there, in bed besides him. Doesn't matter if his eyes were open and staring at them or if his face was sleeping peacefully, he should be there, Chance wants him to be there, at least. It's 12 pm, usually Chance wakes up at 10 because they love gambling all night and need some beauty sleep but I guess the heat and comfort clings to them like a second skin and kept him in bed for two more hours.
Sitting up, he stares at their phone before reaching over to his phone just to stare at Mafioso's contact. The profile picture was just a black screen, but the softness of his cheek and his face (what face) was ingrained into their head for what will feel like eternity. The mafia boss was gone, and who knows when will be the next time they see him? Sure, they said that they don't mind a long distance relationship, but what if they lived together? Each morning would be warm and each day would be great especially if he woke up besides Mafioso, the girls would go to school, and Clover didn't have to be lonely. When dinner comes around, they could share what happened that day, and when it's bed time they could pet the two bunnies until the kids grew tired. They'd be a loving family of six, maybe even more.
Their eyes trail over to the desk, where some gloves laid. Never used them in the summer, as it'd be silly to wear gloves in the warm weather. Chance also would've never thought he'd do something ridiculous like having a glove on one hand and interlacing their fingers with the one without a glove. They'd pretend that hand is Mafioso's and he was holding their hand, like he was there and not on a plane back to his hometown. His grip tightened slightly on his hands. If you told Chance he'd be a "Love-struck boy", Chance would've teased you and this non-existent version of them. (lol sorry guys, I'm listening to music it sets the vibe)
After taking awhile to freshen up, he walks out his bedroom to see breakfast on the table. Pausing, their eyebrows furrowed before noticing the small post-it note besides the dish. They take it into his hands, staring at the nice clean handwriting in black ink.
'I made you and Clover breakfast before leaving, it's the least I could do as a thank you for your comfort last night. Make sure to take care of yourself and Clover.'
'Love, Mafioso.'
Chance stares at the note, then at the now cold plate of food on the table. There's already a plate in the sink, a clear indicator that Clover has already eaten. She was sitting on the floor in front of the TV, watching some kind of cartoon while holding Spade. The dream of having a family with Mafioso already coming to reality, feeding into Chance's delusions. Clover must be hungry, right? How long has it been since she's eaten? Turning around, they stare at Clover. "Dear, are you hungry..? How long has it been since you've eaten something since morning?"
Clover stares back "..yeah." she replied quietly "I ate at 8 am. I could eat something, but I'm not starving.." Mafioso was supposed to leave early in the morning. She wouldn't have been awake at that time but he still made breakfast? Not that he had to, Chance could've taken care of Clover and himself perfectly fine, but they'd be lying if he didn't say that if felt nice to just be pampered in a way.
"Alright, I'll make you some lunch." Chance said, grinning and deeming that breakfast could wait. "What're you craving for?"
Clover stays quiet, seeming to think before finally saying "grilled cheese.." and Chance gets out the ingredients to make her lunch.
The day SHOULD'VE been normal.
Everything should've gone back to normal, in fact. Mafioso had left, so they should just be able to go back to gambling and winning jackpots in front of everyone. (I cnat docus help) No shame, no worries, just gambling the night away per usual. Except that nightmare they had seemed to be back, but in real time. "CHEATER!" A rugged man who obviously had too much to drink would yell, slamming his hand onto the table. Chance smirked, but felt a little under the weather. Did it get hot all of a sudden, or is it just his adrenaline pumping through his veins?
"Ah, come on! Why would I cheat in my own casino?" Chance said, fanning themselves with the cards "Besides, I don't cheat! Not my style, you know..." But the man was having none of it, because the next thing Chance knows, is that he's on the ground with a bruise on their cheek and people are crowded around him in a circle around the poker table. The man was enraged, seemed like all the security guards were everywhere but there, and their flintlock...Their flintlock!
He reaches down to grab his flintlock, aiming to shoot at the aggressive man's ankle-
Click.
Click click.
Click click click.
Fuck.
It's a haunting echo like vocals in an empty museum, which makes your soul leave because you thought it were ghosts haunting you. Some people laugh, including the man, but nobody tries helping. The man approaches and Chance's fight or flight instinct kicks into overdrive. They stood up, flintlock dropping from their hold, and punched the man straight in the nose, using his other hand to push him. Of course, he wasn't strong enough to cause bleeding or a broken nose, but it was a distraction as the man stumbled into the crowd which made Chance flee the scene, flintlock abandoned on the red carpet (poor flintlock 😔).
Chance is glad that Clover has an early bedtime and loves sleeping early, because he really doesn't want her, or anyone, to see him like this. Bruised with a slightly busted lip. Elliot is gonna have a field day with this if he found out and maybe he wasn't ready for that yet. Staring down at the porcelain sink, Chance swallowed the blood seeping from his lip which left a disgusting metallic taste in his mouth. They just began to get ready for bed, not even bothering with the bruise. He's exhausted, mentally and physically.
Why didn't anyone help? Were they all tired of his happy-go-lucky attitude? When will they all just give up on him?
Chance was walking around the empty casino, hands in his pocket and whistling a random tune. It was pretty rare to see the casino empty, judging by how often the seats in front of the coin slot machines are filled up with occupants. He's pretty sure it's a bigger number than how many people come here for the hotel, but then again it just means more money and more people to go against in roulette so they didn't really mind it. Chance's yellow eyes trail over to the stage where the jazz band would usually be performing and froze.
Clover. Limp.
They ran to her body, kneeling and trying to feel a pulse, only to be slapped with the harsh cold of her body and no indication of life. "No..Nonononono," Chance would whisper, "Clover? Clover, talk to me, come on!" They'd grin, think she's asleep, playing a sick joke on her old man. But she didn't reply, and Chance's grin drops. "Hey..? Come on, baby. It's not funny anymore.." Chance's hands shook.
"Who did this to you, my babygirl..." They'd ask the dead body, knowing that she'd never be able to reply ever again. "What happened? Why- what.." He shouldn't have let her out of his sight, shouldn't let her wander to get some juice which was laid besides her, spilt on the stage floor. Despite the shade from his sunglasses and the blurriness from his tears (i should not be listening to energetic music while writing this what am I doing vro), they could make out a slightly dissolved pill.
Reviewing the footage was painful. Clover drinking her juice, slipping away to help a customer, and... Ellernate slipped a pill in Clover's drink. Chance thought that Itrapped moved on and maybe he's not to blame but why else would Clover be poisoned? Itrapped wasn't to blame, nor was his friends. The man shouldn't have left his daughter alone while he gambled. Watching her small frame try and find him, only to crumple like paper after the poison took effect.
This can't be real-
They wouldn't accept it to be real.
"Chance."
It's not real.
"Chance."
It's not real, please don't let it-
"CHANCE!"
They'd gasp, sitting up in a white room though the term void would fit better. He's faced with Mafioso's neutral unamused face. "You were having a nightmare." He said, matter of factly.
"Where- where is she?!" Chance gasps out, feeling like a fool who tried to breathe underwater. "Clover- she's-"
"Breathe, Chance." Mafioso tsked, kneeling to him "Deep breathing."
"I can't- I can't Mafi I can't-"
"Yes you can."
After awhile of breathing, Mafioso turns to Chance "I had to stop torturing someone to come here, you know." He'd say "Never thought I'd...Want to be with someone outside the Dreamsphere."
Chance, feeling light headed, raised an eyebrow "dream..?"
"It's stupid, I'll be honest. I shouldn't be attached to you." Mafioso grunted "Clover wants waffle fries. When you wake up, I mean." To which Chance stares at him.
They reach a hand out to Mafioso "You're just in my dream-"
"I'm real." Mafioso replied, intertwining their hands. When met with a confused expression Mafioso cleared his throat "I uh..Live here, in your dreams. Kinda." (Author has no idea how the dream game works)
Chance smirks "How come I've never dreamed of you besides me in bed naked?" To which the mafia boss flushes red and slaps him up the head "Ow ow! I'm joking, I'm joking! But uh... I was day dreaming. About you and the kids, and we could be a happy family."
Mafioso's eyebrows were still furrowed from the offhand comment Chance made "That's not gonna happen. I live here, you live in your casino which isn't in this world."
"I know, I know.." Chance said, sighing "But I just..I just wanna dream, let me do that at least."
"Fine."
"Dad. Dad wake up." Clover would shake Chance's shoulder. "Dad, I want waffle fries."