Chapter Text
Ever since Scaramouche had arrived in Snezhnaya, he felt the prickling of someone’s constant gaze. At first, he assumed it was just the attention that his presence had originally inspired, being a mysterious new addition to the Harbringers. He was privy to their glares, gazes, and stares the first couple of days, but as time passed, people lost their initial interest. Eventually, it was more and more uncommon to catch someone watching him, yet the prickling feeling didn’t abate.
Eventually, he narrowed it down to the one person left that continued to watch him like a hawk: Dottore, the second of the Harbingers. It was peculiar, because despite not recognizing his face, Scaramouche felt as if he had met the man before. A silly notion, as he knew select few from his previous wanderings, and because of how unforgettable the Doctor seemed to be, both in appearance and personality. And yet, that odd nostalgia remained, getting bouts of deja-vu every once in a while at the man’s small mannerisms. That may have been one of the main reasons for Scaramouche’s sudden habit of holding Dottore’s gaze, one he now realized the Doctor had never attempted to hide. He found himself matching Dottore’s watchful behavior, finding his gaze being drawn to him unless otherwise occupied. Whenever he got caught, Dottore would flash him a sly grin, sending a shiver (of excitement?) down Scaramouche’s spine.
After a week in Snezhnaya, a meeting between the Harbringers was held, which Scaramouche was invited to attend. The meeting began with basic updates about missions and the state of affairs, till Dottore himself raised a hand in question. Pierro called upon him, drawing everyone’s skeptical attention. Scaramouche already had an inkling that Dottore wasn’t very popular among his colleagues, but their expressions in reaction to his interruption was proof enough that he wasn’t well liked. Most of the Harbringers watched Dottore with barely-restrained hatred and apprehension.
Before Dottore spoke, he met eyes once more with Scaramouche, smiling in his direction before turning back to their leader.
“I was just curious as to what our newest member has been assigned to. Surely someone of his lack of combat skills hasn’t been tasked with some sort of mission?”
Dottore cocked his head, teasing lilt to his query. Scaramouche startled at the question, suddenly aware of all the eyes on him. Not only had Dottore drawn all the attention to him, Scaramouche felt as though he had been insulted by the sly bastard. He wasn’t wrong in assuming Scaramouche lacked combat experience, but to point it out in this setting, with the current audience-
Scaramouche thinned his lips and made to respond, but Dottore beat him to it, continuing his question.
“Of course, I mean no offense. I only meant to request our dear Kunikazushi’s aid with my research.”
Dottore met his gaze once again, watching as Scaramouche’s initial offense melted into an expression of surprise. The fact that the second Harbinger knew his name was enough to take him aback. If he had a heart he swore it would have picked up speed.
And, not only did the Doctor know him by name, but to specifically request his help? Scaramouche knew there must be some ulterior motive, yet he remained flustered by the request. Despite being caught off guard, Scaramouche quickly collected himself to snap back, though with considerably less underlying anger than before.
“It’s Scaramouche now,” He stated.
Scaramouche wasn’t that feeble wanderer anymore. He was a Harbinger. Though, new name or not, it was hard not to react to the attention of #2 in the rankings of power. Dottore grinned at Scaramouche’s answer, looking him straight in the face.
“My apologies, dear Balladeer.”
Scaramouche felt his face heat up, quickly looking away from Dottore with a huff. The Doctor was unfazed, even amused at the man’s reaction. He returned his gaze to their leader, who resided at the end of the table, looking between the two with his eyebrows slightly quirked. The other harbingers seemed slightly uncomfortable, especially at the suggestion of Dottore’s “research”. It was common knowledge among anyone who knew Dottore that his experiments were not something to involve yourself in. The Doctor’s success could be partially attributed to his lack of hesitation in practicing immoral or cruel methods of collecting information. That brutal lack of sympathy for anyone or anything apart from his personal goals was scary, but undeniably the reason he became number two of the Harbingers as a mere scientist.
However, they were aware that the new addition to their team didn’t have much to offer in terms of combat skills. Sure, he’d learn- but you didn’t simply become a Fatui Harbinger with nothing to offer. They hadn’t been told what exactly he was, but Scaramouche was something special. Inhuman. Resilient.
Pierro was one of the only ones who knew exactly what the Balladeer had to offer. The Tsaritsa gave him a position because of his enormous amount of potential as a puppet, a moldable machine. It was very probable that putting him in Dottore’s “care” was was her intention all along. To have the Doctor make this request in a meeting made him all the more sure- they may have even discussed it previously. The only thing was…
The Jester once again glanced at Scaramouche, who seemed to be avoiding the Doctor’s gaze. Did he know what the man was suggesting? He didn’t have much sympathy left in him, but the little still present had his stomach rolling for what was in store for this boy. However, whatever happened would surely transform him into a formidable addition to their team. Anything to achieve the goals of their queen.
“I will allow this. Scaramouche, you will, until further notice, be assigned to aid Dottore in his research. Do whatever he requires of you.”
Scaramouche raised his head to meet Pierro’s gaze, except the dread he expected was nowhere to be found.
“Yes, sir.”
Dottore grinned at the response, clearly pleased. The Harbingers closest to him grimaced, stepping further away. Whatever occurred, they could only be glad they were not the ones in Scaramouche’s position.
————— ✧
The meeting adjourned shortly after the assignment, making their way out of the room, save for Dottore. He waiting until Scaramouche got closer, meeting his gaze.
“Balladeer. It will be a pleasure to work with you. Follow me.”
Dottore cocked his head before leading them to the doors. Scaramouche picked up his pace to walk alongside the taller man, looking up at him.
“We’re starting now?”
As they entered the hall, Dottore continued to look ahead, making his way to what Scaramouche assumed was his laboratory.
“Of course. I admit I can barely contain my excitement to work together. I do hope you share at least a bit of my enthusiasm.” He responded, flashing a sly smile in his new helper’s direction.
Scaramouche found his breath leave him momentarily, not expecting such an answer, and unsure how to respond. Dottore only widened his grin at the reaction, reveling in the way he flustered the boy.
Scaramouche cleared his throat and broke the eye contact, looking in the opposite direction.
“I… can’t deny I’m curious to see what keeps the second of the Harbingers occupied.”
Dottore’s smile opens up into a toothy grin, pleased and surprised at Scaramouche’s interest.
“Is that so?” He drawled.
Dottore kept his eyes on the smaller man for a second longer, the other continuing his farce of being interested in the view from the windows they passed.
Eventually the two ventured down a separate corridor, Dottore leading them around a couple of corners until they stopped in front of a small barred door. Scaramouche watched as the Doctor pulled out a ring of keys from under his coat, shuffling through well over a dozen before finding what he was looking for.
Dottore swiftly unlocked the door, opening it in a polite gesture.
“After you,”
He offered, watching as Scaramouche passed him hesitantly to enter the room. Without taking his eyes off the newer Harbinger, Dottore stepped in after him, locking the door behind and repocketing the keys.
Scaramouche let his eyes roam over the space, taking in as much as he could. Instead of a classic laboratory, the room closer resembled an operating room. A long metal seat, about 3/4ths reclined, sat in the very center of the room, with two rolling chairs nearby. Instead of an empty, white sterile room, it was furnished, with a couple of vials and flasks set on wooden cabinets. A bookshelf or two was present, as well as a red rug over the cedar floors. There was even a matching red couch pushed up almost against the center of the wall farthest to the door, complete with a side table. It was not the cold laboratory Scaramouche had pictured, he thought, eying a bottle of whiskey on the side table.
Scaramouche turned around with a questioning glance toward Dottore, who was hanging his hefty outer layers of clothing on a coat rack near the door. The man noticed his subordinate’s look, chucking slightly.
“Not what you expected?”
Scaramouche took one more cursory glance around the odd combination of a living room and a surgical station.
“A bit smaller than I pictured, for one.”
Dottore chuckled again, walking to the other side of the room and grabbing two clean glasses from a cabinet.
“This is one of my more… private research rooms. In truth, this whole wing of the building is mine to use.” He explained, uncorking the whiskey and pouring it into the two glasses.
Scaramouche blanched, thinking back to the ring of keys Dottore had used earlier. He knew the Harbingers were favored by the Tsaritsa, but to have a whole wing dedicated to one was more than he had expected. It began to dawn on Scaramouche just how lucky he was to be a part of the group, despite currently being the lowest-ranking member.
Suddenly, a brief wave of insecurity washed over the man. He knew he wasn’t very strong. Neither was Dottore, he suspected, but at least Dottore had his knowledge and skills in science.
Scaramouche was a weak puppet, not even skilled enough to keep a single person alive. He was the tossed out scraps, a failed creation of one of the Tsaritsa’s enemies. Betrayed and abandoned by his creator, his friends, and the one found family he had. Everyone was destined to leave him. Without anything to offer, he was sure to be thrown out of the position of Harbinger as well.
Why was it the Tsaritsa took him in?
“You know, Kunikazushi… you have an incredible amount of potential.”
Scaramouche’s head shot up, his old name shocking him out of his thought process. At the same time, though, the name only reminded him of what he wanted to most forget.
Scaramouche grit his teeth. “I told you my name is-“
“Scaramouche, yes,” Dottore interrupted, taking a sip from his glass. “But, you know, to have a Harbinger name, you have to earn the title first.”
Scaramouche clenched his fists, red-hot anger shooting through him like he was stricken.
“I have earned the name! The Tsaritsa gave it to me!”
Dottore hummed, thoughtful.
“With what achievements? What strength can you utilize? What could you possibly provide, as you are now?”
The fact that his tone didn’t stem from malice made it all the more impactful. Instead of being berated, Scaramouche felt as if he was being asked a genuine question. Dottore probably already knew the answer, but he was offering the chance to disprove his theory- his hypothesis that their newest Harbinger was truly useless.
And Scaramouche’s rebuttal fell flat. No matter how much he wanted to disprove Dottore, there wasn’t a response he could give. His mouth opened, then closed, no words ever leaving. The realization sunk into his bones, and Scaramouche’s gaze dropped to his feet.
Dottore was left in a resigned silence. With another swig of whiskey, he pushed himself off of the table he was leaning against, grabbing the other glass and making his way toward Kunikazushi.
The Doctor stopped infront of his subordinate, leaning down to catch his attention.
“But, as I said before, you do have an enormous amount of untapped potential.”
Dottore reiterated, urging the other glass of whiskey into Scaramouche’s grasp. The shorter man accepted it mindlessly, slowly looking up to meet Dottore’s gaze.
“…Potential?”
Dottore grinned. “Oh yes, puppet. And I’m here to help unlock it.”