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Abbacchio sighed wearily and grabbed a basket as they entered the store. It had been a long day and he just wanted to get back home, but he would also like to have food for dinner so he supposed it was the least they could do to pick up a couple things on their way back.
“What did Bucciarati say we needed?” Giorno asked, looking around.
Abbacchio rummaged in his pocket for the list he had written down after Bruno’s call. “Here.”
Giorno nodded, glancing over the list as they started to make their way through the store to pick up their groceries.
Abbacchio had accompanied Giorno all that day in the capacity of a bodyguard to visit several people who were late on their protection payments. He’d actually been impressed to see how the kid handled each situation, keeping both his cool and his authority. He’d honestly even taken most of the job of intimidation away from Abbacchio.
It was funny now to see the same serious and very powerful mafia don picking out ripe tomatoes with the scrutiny of a jeweler picking a flawless diamond.
Sometimes, Abbacchio hated to admit that he had grown pretty fond of the kid, but he would be lying if he said he hadn’t.
“Let’s see, we still need to find some flour and sugar,” Giorno said, glancing at the list.
“And bread,” Abbacchio saw. “I’m gonna go grab that, if you get the rest of it.”
Giorno nodded and took the basket from Abbacchio before they split up.
Abbacchio made his way toward the bakery section and grabbed a couple loaves of bread, shaking his head at the futility. It would likely be gone again by lunch tomorrow. That was the issue with living under the same roof as multiple teenagers. Food went very quickly.
He was ready to get going as he headed back to meet Giorno but before he could ask if he’d gotten everything, a couple came down the other end of the aisle, stopping as they spotted the teen.
“Giorno?” the woman cried, looking shocked.
Giorno whipped toward them and Abbacchio expected him to turn on his Don persona, and reply with some sort of charming greeting, but he didn’t. He didn’t say anything. He seemed to, instead, be frozen in place, hand clutching the basket so tight his knuckles whitened and his shoulders set at a defensive angle.
That instantly set the alarm bells off in Abbacchio’s head and he quickened his pace down the aisle.
“Where the hell have you been?” the woman demanded.
Abbacchio inserted himself beside, and slightly in front of, Giorno suddenly feeling the need to reprise his role as bodyguard. “You know these people, Giorno?” he asked.
Giorno glanced up at him, moving a fraction closer to Abbacchio in a way the goth had never seen him do facing down an enemy or disgruntled Passione member. Who the hell could shake him like that….?
Giorno’s mouth opened and closed slightly several times before he said, “Yes. They’re…my parents.”
Oh. Shit. Well, that would explain his reaction then.
“And who are you?” the woman asked Abbacchio, suspicion in her eyes.
“Abbacchio’s a friend,” Giorno said quickly before Abbacchio could say anything.
“A friend?” the man finally spoke, looking Abbacchio up and down, eyes narrowing. “What the hell is a grown man like you doing being friends with a kid?”
“Exactly!” Giorno’s mother exclaimed. “Are you safe, Giorno?”
Giorno let out a soft scoffing laugh. “You care about my safety now?” he demanded.
Abbacchio felt a swift sense of pride wash through him, keeping quiet to let Giorno have this confrontation as long as he was okay with it. It was probably long overdue.
The woman looked like he had slapped her. She stood there with her mouth open for a moment before she sputtered out, “Of-of course I care, Giorno, I’m your mother,” she insisted almost desperately. “When are you coming home?”
Giorno shook his head. “I’m not. That’s not my home anymore. So don’t pretend to care now to make yourself feel better about everything you did—or, rather, what you didn’t do.”
“Don’t talk to your mother that way,” Giovanna growled, taking a step forward. “You’ve certainly gained a smart mouth while you’ve been gone.”
Giorno reacted instantly, stepping backward, before he stopped himself, jaw tight.
Abbacchio instantly inserted himself in front of the kid and glowered down at the shorter man. This had gone on long enough. “Easy,” he growled.
Giovanna glowered up at him. “What are you, his bodyguard?”
Abbacchio cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t know. Does he need one right now?”
The man backed down slightly as his wife grabbed his arm. Then his eyes narrowed and he squinted at Abbacchio, jabbing a finger at him. “Do I know you?”
“I don’t think so,” Abbacchio growled and turned, taking Giorno by the upper arm and nudging him into movement. “Come on, Giorno, let’s go.”
“Yeah, I do know you,” Giovanna continued with a cruel smirk in his voice. “You’re that drunk ex-cop, aren’t you?”
Abbacchio stopped, unable to help himself, clenching his fists as he fought to keep his own emotions at bay while the man continued, “We used to drink in the same bar. I remember now. You’d pick a fight with anything that moved, huh? So, what—you went from brawling in bars to creeping on kids? What a low-life prick.”
“Oh god,” Giorno’s mother gasped dramatically, stepping forward again. “Leave my son alone!”
“Mother, we’re done,” Giorno spoke, voice monotone but with just the hint of a waver in it. “And whatever Abbacchio once was he’s a good man. Better than either of you could ever hope to be, so I’d appreciate you not insulting him by bringing up his past.”
“You little—”
“You heard the kid,” Abbacchio growled. “He doesn’t want to see you anymore. Let’s go, Giorno.”
He ushered Giorno toward the check-out as quickly as possible, hoping those bastards wouldn’t follow them.
As they waited their turn, he noticed that Giorno was shaking and Abbacchio couldn’t blame him.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly. Of course Giorno wasn’t okay, but he at least wanted to make sure the kid wasn’t on the verge of having a panic attack.
Giorno nodded jerkily, still clutching the basket in his white-knuckled hands.
Abbacchio pressed his lips together. “You can wait in the car if you want.”
Giorno shook his head more decisively and moved just a fraction closer to Abbacchio. The goth realized then that Giorno didn’t want to be left alone, and he honestly couldn’t blame him. He wasn’t sure he would trust those two not to try something either. And though in theory he knew that Giorno could defend himself against two people who were not Stand users, he understood what trauma could do and knew there was no guarantee that Giorno would be able to manifest his Stand in the heat of the moment.
He gently extricated the basket from Giorno’s hands as it was their turn to check out. A few minutes later he grabbed the bags after paying. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, nodding for Giorno to go ahead of him out to the parking lot.
It took actual effort for Abbacchio to keep up with Giorno even with his longer legs. The kid seemed to want to get out of there as quickly as possible and Abbacchio couldn’t exactly blame him.
He was really hoping that they would get out of there without another confrontation, but the sound of running heels and a shrill voice had him turning around after putting the groceries in the back seat.
“Giorno! You’re really just going to leave like that? At least give me a phone number in case I—”
“He doesn’t owe you anything,” Abbacchio snapped. “You heard him before, he’s done with you. And from what I’ve heard, with good reason.”
Giovanna scoffed. “Whatever the brat told you was a lie. If you haven’t figured it out by now, most of what he says is a lie.”
“Is it,” Abbacchio said blandly. “Do scars lie too? That’s right. I’ve seen the proof of what you did to him.”
Giorno flinched and Abbacchio felt bad briefly for bringing up the scars, until he saw Giovanna’s face twist in anger.
“So what are you doing looking at them?” he sputtered as a counter. “You some sort of perverted freak?”
“Oh god, Giorno, did this man hurt you?” Giorno’s mother added, her concern dripping falsely from her lips.
“No,” Giorno spoke up, eyes flashing. “Abbacchio’s been more of a parent to me than either of you ever were.”
“You know he’s scum, right?” Giovanna asked and Abbacchio could see the cruel satisfaction in his eyes. “Whatever he’s pretending to be now, he used to be a cop who took dirty money and got his partner killed. Then he sat around feeling sorry for himself in bars, drinking and picking fights with anyone who looked at him wrong. You can’t stomach me, but you want to associate with scum like him?”
Abbacchio felt sick at the mention of his less than glamourous past. He’d never explained the full story to Giorno and was kind of pissed he had to learn it like this.
“I don’t care what Abbacchio used to be,” Giorno said, surprising Abbacchio yet again. “That’s not him anymore. I only care about what he is now—a man who always puts loyalty first, and someone who would gladly give his life to protect the people he cares about.” He narrowed his eyes. “I know what true scum looks like. I’ve stared it in the face. Abbacchio is a good man who’s gone through a lot to change his life around.”
“So he’s brainwashed you with his lies.”
“No, I just finally found out what it’s like to have a real family,” Giorno said, voice wavering with emotion. He swallowed hard, straightened his shoulders and glowered. “And realized just how shitty you both were to me.”
His mother stood there with her mouth open, not looking like she even knew what to say, but Giovanna looked furious.
“You ungrateful little shit!” he snarled. “Feeding you and putting a roof over your head not good enough? I ought to teach you another lesson. Seems like you’re long past due…”
He started forward, thinking he was going to get around Abbacchio.
His mistake.
Abbacchio instantly stepped in front of Giorno and swung. His fist made direct contact with the man’s nose with a sickening crunch as Giovanna fell back on his ass.
Giorno’s mother screamed and reached for her husband. He brushed her away, bringing a hand up to press against his nose while he pushed himself to his feet again.
“You bastard. You haven’t changed at all, have you?” Giovanna snarled through bloody teeth, looking a little too satisfied for someone who had just gotten their nose broken. “You think you’re better than me?”
“Maybe not,” Abbacchio growled. “But at least I only ever beat up dicks. Not kids.”
“You think you’re in any position to judge me?” the man said. “Like you would know what the brat was like. Some kids need a heavy hand. I was just toughening him up.”
“There’s never an excuse for leaving scars like that on a kid,” Abbacchio bit out in disgust. “And I can spot a drunken low-life from a mile away, so don’t try to pretend some savior complex with me, you piece of shit.”
“You really want to go, punk?” Giovanna spat a gob of blood to one side and shoved his sleeves up, advancing.
Abbacchio didn’t give him the time of day. The second Giovanna swung, he grabbed his wrist and wrenched the man’s arm behind his back before slamming him against the side of the car.
Giovanna howled as Abbacchio applied pressure, straining muscles and ligaments just to the point of real damage.
“You know what I am now?” he growled in the man’s ear, low enough that Giorno couldn’t hear him. “Bodyguard to a mafia don. I should be making you get on your knees and kiss the kid’s ring, but I don’t think he wants your loyalty. So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll go home and never think about the name Giorno Giovanna ever again.”
The man’s eyes widened in disbelief before he sneered… “You think you can scare me with that ridiculous bullshit—agh!”
Abbacchio shoved his arm further upward, causing the man to go up on his toes to try to relieve the pressure.
“You think I’m bluffing? Ask anyone in town about Giorno Giovanna. They’ll confirm. But if I were you, I’d just go home, pack up, and leave the city. Remember that Giorno can tell me where you live. Now, he might be feeling generous, but even so, I’m not. And trust me when I say that I don’t take kindly to anyone who fucks with my famiglia. You even think of tracking down the kid again, a busted nose is just gonna be the cherry on top of the beatdown I’m gonna give you.”
Abbacchio left the threat open to interpretation as he tweaked the man’s arm one more time before stepping away. “Now get the fuck out of my sight.”
He shoved the man away from him and Giovanna staggered to one side where his wife grabbed his arm, looking terrified.
“Let’s go,” Giovanna grunted.
“But what about—?”
“We’re going!”
Abbacchio watched to make sure they retreated to their car and drove away before he finally turned back toward Giorno who was watching him with an unreadable expression on his face.
“Hey,” Abbacchio finally said. “You good?”
Giorno let out a long exhale of breath and some of the tension left his body. “Yes. I think so.”
Abbacchio flexed his hand. Would probably have bruised knuckles but it would be worth it. “He sure was a piece of work.”
Giorno nodded. “You have no idea,” he muttered before he cocked his head to one side. “What did you say to him anyway?”
Abbacchio snorted. “Just made sure he wouldn’t bother you again. Hopefully.”
Giorno nodded slowly, glancing in the direction his parents had driven off in, arms folding over his chest in a defensive position.
Abbacchio glanced across the street, something catching his eye. “Hey,” he said. “You want some ice cream?”
Giorno looked up at him in surprise. “What?”
“I think you could use some ice cream,” Abbacchio said decisively and jerked his head in the direction of the stand across the street. “Come on.”
Giorno’s face turned into a smile and he jogged to catch up to Abbacchio as they crossed the street.
After they had gotten their ice cream, they ate it as they walked slowly back to their car.
“By the way,” Abbacchio said, knowing he had to get this out at some point. “In case you’re wondering, what he said about me was true. I’m not proud of it, but it happened.”
Giorno shook his head. “I don’t care about your past, Abbacchio. I know that’s not who you really are. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” He smiled at Abbacchio’s surprised expression. “Thank you, by the way. I’m not sure I would have been able to do that myself but…it felt good.”
Abbacchio huffed a laugh and reached out to ruffle the kid’s hair. “Yeah, it did,” he said.
Giorno duked his head under Abbacchio’s touch and looked up at him softly. “It’s nice to be around someone I…feel safe with,” he admitted quietly.
Abbacchio felt something well in his chest—a feeling he could only describe as parental and wasn’t sure entirely how to process that. But, well, if the kid really needed some kind of father figure, then he would try his best to be that for him. He’d kind of already done that with the others anyway. Maybe Bucciarati was rubbing off on him a little too much.
“That’s my job, kid, don’t get too sappy about it,” Abbacchio said with half-hearted gruffness, unable to meet the kid’s eyes. “Eat your ice cream before it melts.”
Giorno smiled and did as he was told, eating his ice cream happily as they made their way back to the car.
Abbacchio couldn’t be certain, but he thought he saw a new spring in Giorno’s step that hadn’t been there before. He realized if it brought the kid closure he was willing to punch a hundred dicks in the face. He honestly wasn’t sure if that was how fatherhood was supposed to feel, but their family was already bizarre enough so maybe in this case it would work.
“Let’s get home, huh?” Abbacchio said as they made it back to the car and he dug in his pocket for his keys.
“Yes,” Giorno said with a decisive satisfaction in his voice. “Let’s go home.”
