#previous merc!dice likes the devil

[zaraegis]

Come at the King!au|Part  6|T

Fandom: Cuphead

Pairings: Ride or Die QPP Wheezy & Dice

TW: some small violence, being an Emotionally Mature Person and Apologizing

Notes: After the Events of Cuphead, everyone’s gotta deal with the aftermath

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After all the harrowing Casino fights and the loss of all the Inkwell Island soul contracts, Dice pauses only briefly before coming into the Devil's Office. He's a straightforward kind of guy, when he's not rigging everything he can in his favor. Dithering in front of a door because he lost horribly isn't his style.

The man himself is in there, ice pack on his head and a horn missing and the most pissed off Dice has seen.

His fur is matted around his eyes. Did those cups make him cry?

"YOU."

"Yes, boss?" Dice replies brightly, determined to not lose his own frayed temper over being beaten up terribly like some common civilian.

"Worthless lackey, why do I keep you around if you're not going to stop a couple of snot nosed brats from making off with whatever they want?" Ouch. But admittedly deserved .

Dice opened his mouth, already thinking of ways to spin this, even while being aware of his chipped head and unimpressive black eyes. His boss cuts him off, on a roll.

"I know what you can do Dice" The Devil's tone changes, something dark and knowing that makes his hackles rise, "What I want to know is why you didn't do everything in your power to stop them? Is this what you wanted? For the casino to become a laughingstock and-"

The knife that sprouts centimeters from the Devil's pointed ear chimes dully as it vibrates from the force. It's stuck fast through the layers of wood and cloth. The Devil can see his own angry red eyes in it's metal.

"Be very careful Boss." Dice quietly says in the sudden silence, hand still outstretched. "About what you say when you're letting your temper get the best of you."

The Devil feels his fury banking at a wave of wariness. He might not be up to another fight so soon, especially with someone as dangerous as his manager.

Dice, with a blank expression, reaches slowly into his suit and pull out a familiar creased paper. He sets it gently, terribly terribly gently, on the desk between them.

It's his contract.

Gut churning, the Devil will never admit he near jumped out of his skin as Dice slams one gloved hand besides it.

"If it pleases you Boss, I would like to remind you that my contract clearly states that you hired a manager, NOT a mercenary "OF SOME KIND"."

What used to be a passing joke between the two of them is now tarred with the contempt dripping from Dice as he near shouts the last bit.

The Devil has never heard King Dice raise his voice.

They stare each other down and Dice huffs and turns on his heel, shoulders stiff and contract left behind on the mahogany surface. Before he reaches the door the Devil speaks up behind him, voice quiet and tired.

"Are you quitting?"

"I dunno. Am I fired?" Dice shoots back. He doesn't bother to slam the door, point made.

-

Outside he's met with the wide eyes of the casino employees. He rolls his eyes and quietly commands: "To the staff lounge room with you all, there's a meeting."

They all disperse quickly, everyone silent and straining to hear any more noises from the imposing door to the Devil's office.

There's nothing.

-

"You all have the week off. Rest, and heal up. You'll get a bonus not to worry." He mentions when he sees Mangosteen open his mouth. "Hazard pay if nothing else."

He'll make sure of it, even if he's booted from his job.

"As for the souls... I wouldn't put it past those two brothers to come back up in a rage if we make anymore deals in the casino. But..." He smiles slyly, "Plenty o' people come round to make legitimate deals with the Devil for their souls. That's not something they can have a say in, I wager."

They're quiet and everyone is conspiciously NOT mentioning whatever they may have heard of him losing his temper. They're all quite decent coworkers really, compared to others he's had in the past.

He might miss them.

"What about the Big Boss, Mr. King Dice?" Chips finally pipes up, blunt and willing to say what everyone else is wondering. Dice very pointedly does not frown.

"He's...taking a break too I suppose. I'll check back up on him after this, to make sure." He idly glances at Pirouetta, the previous manager and closest to the Devil himself. She inclines her head at him.

It either means that yes, he should check up on his boss or yes, she will lay some lovely flowers on his grave. It's always fifty-fifty with her.

"-and Chips. It's just Dice now."

The silence got even more oppressive. Oh dear, that wasn't what he was going for. He shakes his shoulders out to soften his rigid stance and smiles ruefully.

"They sold their souls, and they beat all the Casino employees, myself and the Devil. That means my title is theirs now." It stung more than he thought it would, saying it outloud.

Nearly half his life's accomplishment, gone in the wind.

Chips is picking at the lasso he keeps at his hip, worrying the frayed strands and not looking up as he mutters.

"That's gonna be mighty strange. Ain't callin' no two bit bums off the street Kings though." Pip and Dot make assenting noises.

Dice feels Wheezy's absense keenly at this moment.

"Don't worry boss," Hopus cackles, it's really the only way he talks, "You'll always be the king of my 'eart!"

They all break into hooting and hollering and raucous laughter and Dice actually guffaws at their ridiculousness. The tension fractures at that and they all begin chatting with the same ease as the day before.

Pirouetta comes up to him, a tellingly reserved air about her. "Wheezy won't be joining us today?"

It's said casually, but her eyes lock onto his and Dice feels his shoulders straighten back up.

"Yes." He answers finally, not allowing himself to look away. "I got some apologies to make first though."

Pirouetta nods sharply at him and he feels like he dodged a bullet. Before she swans off, he gently catches her elbow.

"You wouldn't happen to know where I can get some cinnamon would you?"

She smiles.

-

He does stop back at the Boss's office. It's empty and dark. One of the imps that hangs around tells him the Devil's gone to ground back to Hell.

Where mortals like Dice can't tread. Typical.

Oh well. He'll give him a week before Dice storms the Underworld after his wayward employer.

He's got some apology breakfast to make.

-

"Hey."

Wheezy startles at the sudden voice in his suite where previously he thought he was alone. Dice sidles up to him and sits besides him on the sofa. He doesn't turn to look from where he's cradling the little beat up cigar demons in his lap.

He'd never been one of the casino fighters before. Always the one to stand back and watch Dice make mincemeat out of anyone who thought they could win back their contract. Always the one to help patch everything and everybody up.

The little guys were the Devil's, but Wheezy took care of them, kept their little flames flickering and swept the ashes they left everywhere.

It was easier than he thought to fight. Even young ones like those cups. The adrenaline pumping made his reservations about violence wick away and he found it so easy to spit out the fire he's held back since he knew what those flames could do as a child.

That frightened him more than anything.

"So. You might be right about the winning thing."

He turned slightly, to show he was listening.

Dice looked at him, not allowing himself to obfuscate or hem and haw around his apology.

" 'm sorry, Wheeze. I shouldn't have kicked you because I got mad at someone else." He huffs out a breath. Does it make Wheezy a terrible person that he enjoys the pained grimace on his friend's face? Probably. But it does make him feel better.

"I won't do it again."

"Won't you?" Wheezy quietly asked. Finally turning to see Dice, serious and beat up.

"I'll show you. I won't."

Wheezy presses their shoulders together. "Alright."

"Alright?"

"Yeah. You look ridiculous by the way, have you iced your face?"

Dice pulled a face, "I had to go throw a knife at our Boss this morning, ain't had time."

"What?!"

Dice waves him off, "Don't worry it didn't even scratch him."

Wheezy is well out of his funk now, jolted into familiar exasperated worry. Why was his friend such a blockhead?

Dice squinted suspiciously at him, and opened his mouth to call out Wheezy on the blockhead comment he could probably feel when they were interrupted by a knock.

Mangosteen popped his head in, hilariously too big to fit in entirely in the doorway without ducking. "We've got the stuff boss."

Dice jumped up and made his way to Wheezy's kitchen, Wheezy incredulously as the entirety of the casino staff paraded into his suite carrying a bevy of delicious smelling dishes to the dining table.

"What is all this?"

"Breakfast," Dice exclaimed, way too satisfied for someone still missing a tooth, and started rolling up his sleeves.

Wheezy had to give in when Pirouetta stopped at his side and raised a single eyebrow.

Breakfast sounded good.

-

"I was always afraid you know," He tells Dice, in the aftermath of breakfast. They're washing dishes while everyone else seems reluctant to leave, lounging around his living room and exclaiming on the goings on of Hell out the window.

"Of what?" Dice questions, both of them slowly getting used to one another again in the wake of their not-fight.

Wheezy shrugs. "Someone coming after you while I was there. Me not being able to do anything about it really."

He really wasn't prepared for one of his worst fears coming true in the most spectacular fashion. He had to watch some upstarts beat up his friend and know there was nothing at all he could do.

He just. Wasn't enough.

He wonders if Dice lives with this fear, all the time. Fear of his past catching up to him, clever deal with the Devil or no.

Dice stops and looks down at the cup he's scrubbing. Idly turning it this way and that.

"I think," he starts slowly,"That you might be the only one to want to have my back when they do come for me."

He looks up, the lighting making his face seem haunted,"Thank you."

Wheezy doesn't know if Dice realizes he always says "when" and not "if" while referring to his past. Like it was inevitable and the Devil himself could only stall it despite everything.

That was too much for Wheezy to think about right now.

"Well," He clears his throat and everyone else’s conversation filters in between them once again. "At least this whole mess is over with now, ey?"

Dice laughs and lets the cup sink down into warm soapy water.

-

The first hitman finds him the next morning.