Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/16047.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Repo!_The_Genetic_Opera
  Relationship:
      Luigi_Largo/Amber_Sweet
  Character:
      Luigi_Largo, Amber_Sweet, Rotti_Largo
  Additional Tags:
      Backstory, Bloodplay
  Series:
      Part 1 of Incision
  Stats:
      Published: 2009-11-18 Words: 2714
****** Everything Louder Than Everything Else ******
by finesharp
Summary
     Luigi has never been very good at articulating what he wants.
Notes
     This is for
     [[info]]
amberswansong
1.
Luigi is looking at his fourth birthday and he's just buried his mother. He is
old enough to miss her, old enough to know something is very wrong, but not
quite old enough to know or understand what it is. He slept on top of the
comforter every night for a week, because she made the bed with him that last
time and he knows she won't do it again.
When he comes back from the funeral and finds a maid in his room, laying down
new sheets, he just reacts. He screams at her, and she looks at him. He throws
himself at her, beating at her legs with his fists. She speaks a little English
and no Italian, and she has been expressly forbidden to touch any member of the
family, and all she can do is apologize in confused Spanglish.
Unable to get the response he wants from her, Luigi picks up the first thing
that comes to hand and throws the tin train with all the force he can muster.
It isn't much, but his aim is good and the edges are sharp. When she sees the
blood from the shallow cut running down her face, she screams and faints.
Frustrated, unable to control himself, Luigi picks up the train and brings it
down on her head again. And again. Until finally it's his own shouting that
brings other adults, and the maid isn't moving anymore. His father's assistant
is the one who looks in, pulling Luigi away from the woman and turning very
pale.
"Mister Largo? I think-" He makes a gagging noise and disappears. Luigi begins
screaming again, tired of everyone ignoring him. Finally his father appears.
"Papa!" Luigi yells, running to him.
"Shh, Luigi, shh," his father says, but it is Papa's girlfriend who picks him
up and holds him away from her, complaining about what a mess he is. Luigi
screams again, trying to wiggle out of her grip.
"Why don't you love me, Luigi?" she asks, but he doesn't know how to answer.
"I'm your Mommy now. You have to love me."
Luigi finally gets loose and goes to his father, bending over the woman on the
floor. He watches as the half-made sheet is pulled loose and draped over her.
"She's not worth crying over," Papa says, and Luigi isn't sure whether he means
the maid or his mother. Someone comes in and moves the body, and someone strips
Luigi of his sticky clothes, and he hears his father in the other room saying
it is just an accident. The sheets and the train are gone long before he is
tucked into bed that night.
He dreams of blood, but he doesn't scream and he doesn't cry.
2.
Luigi is looking at a twelfth birthday party that's happening at the same time
as Carmela's first and the grand opening of the new GeneCo building on
Sanitarium Island. The party is bigger than he likes, but since he's nominally
being celebrated (he knows it's really about his father) he can't leave either.
He grumbles at the security force, he punches Pavi in the back, but nothing
really makes it better. All he can do is wait it out, and since it's the first
time since Carmela's mother died that the Largos have been out in public, it
takes hours for the press and the socialites to get their fill.
They actually moved into the building two weeks ago, and Luigi's spent the days
since dangling Pavi off the balcony by his ankles and ordering people around -
he loves that he can always find someone to yell at.
Long after he was supposed to be in bed, not that anyone would tell him to go
even on a regular night, Luigi steps into the elevator with his father.
Security is throwing out the last of the stragglers and Rotti is carrying his
sleeping daughter upstairs.
"Why are we way out here, Dad?" Luigi asks. All of the familiar lights of Los
Angeles are far away across the water, nothing more than bright, low-lying
stars.
"When Carmela's mother died," his father says, "a lot of people said it was a
sign that something was wrong with GeneCo. We have to prove them wrong."
"So you bought a graveyard?"
"The city practically gave it to me when I asked." But people always give his
father what he wants and so Luigi doesn't dwell on this.
"Can I hold her?" he asks, changing the subject.
"Make sure you support her head," his father says automatically, handing the
sleeping girl to him. Luigi mostly ignores the instruction, holding her and
studying her.
"How come mothers die?"
Rotti swallows hard. "Lots of people die, Luigi. Everyone dies eventually."
"You don't. She won't. I'll protect her."
"You do that. You should take care of your brother, too, you know. That's what
big brothers are supposed to do."
Luigi shakes his head as the elevator stops. The doors open. "Nah, Pavi'll be
okay. She's a girl, though, so I have to make sure she doesn't die."
His father starts to say something, but he stops. Luigi steps out and starts
down the hall to the nursery. Rotti can only follow.
3.
Luigi is looking at nineteen and looking forward to celebrating with Marissa.
She's the first girl who's ever kept up with him, the first one who didn't
pander because of his last name, and he's been doing this for almost a year now
and he's starting to wonder if this is love.
She always plays rough with him and she loves the edge of the knife as much as
he does, or at least he thinks so. She never cuts as deep.
He's got class on Monday, and though he could blow that off, Marissa's been on
him about that. Other things too - she doesn't like the way he drinks after a
rough exam, and sometimes she complains about how he spends his money. Wastes,
she says. But money's like water to Luigi - it doesn't exist to be held, it's
just something that flows to him and away from him.
Tonight it's flowing away, as he celebrates his birthday with a Saturday night
dinner at a nicer restaurant than some of his classmates have ever been in
before, and he's in a good mood so every waitress that refills his wine gets a
hundred dollar bill for the trouble.
Later he gets his favorite present, Marissa shuddering underneath him as Luigi
draws neat little lines on her abdomen with a razor. He's getting caught up in
the sight of it, the lines getting deeper and turning as jagged as his
breathing.
One cut goes too deep and she yelps in pain, swatting his hand away from her.
"I'm not fucking done," he grumbles at her. Even the last cut is barely
bleeding and he feels like she's all foreplay and no follow through.
"Just finish," she mumbles. "I've got work tomorrow."
He presses hard with the razor, trying to draw the reaction he wants out off
his body. She shouts and pulls away.
"Dammit, Luigi," she snaps. "That hurt."
"It's supposed to fucking hurt," he answers, trying to pull her back.
"Don't be a dick." She grabs the hand with the blade. "Can't you just finish
yourself off?"
"Hell of a birthday present, Riss. Fuck you."
"You're certainly trying," she said. "If you're so determined to keep me awake
you could at least share some of those hundred dollar bills with me. If I
didn't have to work you could cut on me all night."
"I thought you liked paying your own way."
"I do, most of the time. But you could fucking offer."
"Fine, call off tomorrow, I'll make it up," he says, exasperated.
"Thanks, Luigi," she says, relaxing. "I don't mean to be such a bitch."
"Whatever." He wants to get back to the fucking.
She curls up against him, her fingers playing over his chest and then wandering
lower. "You're supposed to apologize."
Luigi ignores her, angling his cock back inside her and then, even before he's
finished the thrust, he's bringing the razor back to her skin.
"Dammit, Lu, can't you fuck me without that for once?"
"No." He doesn't elaborate.
"Normal people don't do this shit all the time," she complains, but he's
ignoring her, dragging the blade across her skin again.
Marissa tries to push him away and he lashes out, and this time it's the hand
with the razor in it. The cut trails across her chest, shallow over her collar
bone and deep enough to see the fat beneath the skin by the time it reaches her
nipple.
She screams his name and tries to pull away but he's too far gone to hear her.
The razor just keeps going deeper and he doesn't think he's ever felt so
fucking good in his life as he does with her fighting underneath him as she
bleeds out.
He skitters away from her body almost before he's finished coming, trying to
avoid the blood, but there's a lot of it. He knows she's dead and he knows he's
a long way from home and for a minute he's almost scared. He reaches for his
phone.
"Papa," he says, and he hasn't called his father that since Pavi was a baby. "I
know it's late, but I... I need your help."
There's silence, maybe hesitation, and Luigi thinks it lasts forever. "Of
course," his father says, though his voice is strained. "What is it?"
"I... Marissa and I were arguing. It was an accident."
His father sighs heavily. "Don't worry, I'll make sure it's cleaned up. You
know none of your little girlfriends are worth the scandal it would cause if I
didn't."
The phone disconnects and the room is very, very quiet as Luigi sits down to
wait.
4.
Luigi is looking at twenty-seven and he is too drunk to stand up and he wants
to get the hell out of this building and this island and California. It's been
six weeks since he went looking for Lila - to apologize, and to propose, his
father be damned - and found her dead instead. He came home, not knowing what
else to do.
Last night he got so drunk at the GeneCo holiday celebration that one of his
father's henchgirls had to carry him upstairs before the last act was finished.
He remembers Carmela standing beside him in the elevator. He remembers that she
smelled like cinnamon and cocoa.
It's noon and he's started drinking again to keep the hangover at bay, so he's
already buzzed when his father walks in without knocking, a henchgirl close
behind. Luigi is sitting at his desk in boxers and socks and an unbuttoned
shirt, flicking through the news and entertainment feeds on his tablet and
finding nothing he wants to look at. He doesn't look up, but he can hear his
father moving around.
Rotti clucks disapprovingly and looks for someplace to sit. The maids have
never been allowed in his room here and Luigi's in no mood to make the bed so
everything is disheveled. Throwing up his hands in defeat, his father remains
standing.
"Luigi. I told you she wasn't worth it," the older man says. Rotti's words are
stiff and his accent is noticeable, as if the words are coming from a disused
source that hasn't been oiled properly in years. "She's not worth this. You're
going to kill yourself, and a new liver won't stop you if you really want that.
She's not worth embarrassing me over, especially now that she's dead."
Luigi waits to see if that's all. There's only silence and his father's hand
suddenly heavy on his shoulder.
"Fuck you, Dad," he says, and he's gripping the desk so tight he thinks it will
come apart. "I'm tired of your fucking mandates. I'm an adult."
"Are you?" Rotti scoffs. "You take my money, you run back to my home as soon as
you get in trouble. You're more of a teenager than your sister is."
"I did what you told me, like a good fucking boy. I broke up with her, and she
got killed anyway."
"You say that like I had something to do with it." There's a threat in his
father's voice.
Luigi thinks of his mother suddenly, and how she and his father fought in the
year between their separation and her death. He thinks of the other women
who've come and gone. "Just because your girlfriends fucking die on you doesn't
mean I have to be miserable."
"Luigi-"
"You didn't leave the house for six fucking months after Carmela's mother died.
We didn't see you for a week after Marni ran off. God dammit, Dad, you of all
fucking people should understand what I'm going through!"
Now, finally, he's gotten through. "Do not dare bring Marni into this. If you-"
"If I hadn't what? Flirted with her? Brought Nathan up? Fuck you. She made her
mistakes and she died for them, I think you can fucking forgive her now."
"You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Maybe I don't. All I know is I don't want to end up like you, where everyone I
love ends up dead."
"In that case, Luigi, you should stop killing them."
There's not even a rational response left in Luigi's brain at this point. He
pulls the knife even though he knows the henchgirl is right there, and that she
will react if he tries anything. It's useless. As far as Luigi can see, his
father is immortal and omniscient. He expects the old man to outlive all three
of them.
Luigi does it anyway, because sometimes you want a fucking rifle in your face,
you need the pain of a woman turning your own knife on you and digging it in.
"Elizabeth, no," his father says, but underneath Luigi thinks he is saying yes.
The henchgirl drops him immediately and he lands hard on the tile floor.
"We'll talk later, when you're sober." His father means it to be biting but
Luigi is used to that tone. Luigi watches as the henchgirl holds the door and
then hands it to his father so he can slam it shut.
He sits in silence, trying to decide what to do, if he even wants to do
anything, when the door opens again. He tenses.
"Luigi? Are you okay?" It's just Carmela, and the relief washes over him and
retreats, dragging some of the rage back out to sea. She's wearing a short
designer dress and her face is all made up. He figures she must have been on
her way in or out when she heard the yelling.
"Am I ever?" he asks and he hates the words as they come out of his mouth.
"Sure you are. Stuff pisses you off, but you're Luigi fucking Largo, remember?
You never let me forget it." She climbs onto his bed and sits against the
pillows, stretching her legs on top of the rumpled sheets. Luigi falls back
against the bed and she reaches down, drawing her fingers through his hair.
He curls up against her then, his face on her thigh and his fingers lazily
circling he knee and moving northward. He doesn't mean anything by it, not at
first. It's little Carma, even if she's not so little anymore, and they've been
holding each other since she was old enough to hold things.
She tenses at his touch when he's halfway up her thigh, with a little squeak,
and her grip tightens in his hair.
And maybe, he thinks, maybe Pop was right when he said no one was good enough
for a Largo.
Except, of course, another Largo. And Carmela smells so damn good.
He knows on some level that this is wrong even as he tugs on her panties, but
he's spent most of his life ignoring that shit and he's sure as hell not going
to start now, not when she's as warm and sweet in his arms as ever and she's
kissing him like she knows it'll save his life.
But then Carmela's always expected her brother to save her. He thinks it's time
she saved him in return.
  Works inspired by this one
      (But_I_Won't_Do_That) by amberswansong
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