"Are you sure you don't want me to call him, give him a chance to get here?"
Ciro looks exhausted, even as he quietly shakes his head. Lancia can't help feel bad for his charge. It's hard to forget how he'd been the night after he'd spoken with Faustino, dragging his feet into Lancia's room and laying face down on the floor up until the older man had dragged him into the bed. It wasn't something that happened anymore, not usually. When he was younger, sure, it'd been a common sight, but these days Ciro had grown up fine and had medication to prevent whatever was loose in his head from falling apart. That he'd been unable to muster up any energy at all... It hadn't been a good sign.
At least he's standing upright now as the two of them wait in the airport, Ken impatiently taking care of the tickets, but there's no missing the weight in his gaze. Ciro's poker face is usually phenomenal, but... Lancia can't blame him for being too worn down to keep it up.
Him, Al, and Faustino have been with each other for longer than they've been with the Family, with bonds that Lancia had always thought were tighter than God's grip. He supposes that the three of them must have thought so, too.
"If he wanted to see us off, he'd be here already," Ciro confesses quietly, voice quiet even for him. His fingers tighten quietly around the strap of his carry on bag, knuckles showing for a split second before they loosen up in defeat. Lancia suspects that, all up to this point, he's been quietly desperately hoping that he would regardless. "Besides, it won't have any meaning if someone forces him to reach out to us. It has to be his choice." A deep shuddering breath, and Ciro closes his eyes. "So we'll wait for him. For as long as we need to."
For not the first time, Lancia wonders if Faustino knows how good he's got it. There are a whole lot of people in the underworld, even raised in good solid Families, that don't even know the dictionary definition of loyalty. Yet here Faustino is, with two skilled people who would, even now, chop off an arm if only he said the word.
And now they'll be all the way in Japan, furthering connections with the Vongola's tenth generation. At least the work will keep them busy.
It's a little lonely, sending Ciro and Al off, but, at the same time... He can't help but be a little proud. It's Ciro acting on his own, for once, and acting to not only protect himself but try and better Faustino although it's questionable if he'll understand. While the growth has been quiet and subtle, there's no denying it now as he looks over Ciro fondly and reaches over to ruffle his hat. As a look of bewilderment passes over the youth's face, Lancia smiles.
"You two will take care of yourselves, then, right?"
Straightening his hat, Ciro glances back to the lines, where Al is bouncing up as high as he can make it and looking straight over to him. While he doesn't smile, something in Ciro seems to ease up. "Yeah," he agrees quietly, "We'll take care of each other." As Lancia notes the slight change in words, Ciro reaches into his bag and passes over a folded up piece of paper. "When you get back... Can you give this to Faustino? It's the address and new phone number we'll be using. When he decides to use it."
Carefully, Lancia accepts the paper and tucks it into his pocket where it won't get lost. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he gets it," he promises, although he has a feeling it'll be harder said than done once Faustino decides to get up and start throwing a fit for real over this. Well, a promise is a promise. "Now go on- make sure you don't miss your flight."
For a just a moment, Ciro seems to hesitate, but then Al calls his name and he takes a breath. "Right." He inclines his head. "Then.... Until we see you again." He takes off, then, going to join his partner. They don't even have to look at each other for their hands to join, grips obviously tight even from a distance.... And they only look back a few times before disappearing from sight.
Lancia lets out a breath.
Funny. He never thought Ciro and Al would be the first to leave the nest, but there they go.
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Ciro looks exhausted, even as he quietly shakes his head. Lancia can't help feel bad for his charge. It's hard to forget how he'd been the night after he'd spoken with Faustino, dragging his feet into Lancia's room and laying face down on the floor up until the older man had dragged him into the bed. It wasn't something that happened anymore, not usually. When he was younger, sure, it'd been a common sight, but these days Ciro had grown up fine and had medication to prevent whatever was loose in his head from falling apart. That he'd been unable to muster up any energy at all... It hadn't been a good sign.
At least he's standing upright now as the two of them wait in the airport, Ken impatiently taking care of the tickets, but there's no missing the weight in his gaze. Ciro's poker face is usually phenomenal, but... Lancia can't blame him for being too worn down to keep it up.
Him, Al, and Faustino have been with each other for longer than they've been with the Family, with bonds that Lancia had always thought were tighter than God's grip. He supposes that the three of them must have thought so, too.
"If he wanted to see us off, he'd be here already," Ciro confesses quietly, voice quiet even for him. His fingers tighten quietly around the strap of his carry on bag, knuckles showing for a split second before they loosen up in defeat. Lancia suspects that, all up to this point, he's been quietly desperately hoping that he would regardless. "Besides, it won't have any meaning if someone forces him to reach out to us. It has to be his choice." A deep shuddering breath, and Ciro closes his eyes. "So we'll wait for him. For as long as we need to."
For not the first time, Lancia wonders if Faustino knows how good he's got it. There are a whole lot of people in the underworld, even raised in good solid Families, that don't even know the dictionary definition of loyalty. Yet here Faustino is, with two skilled people who would, even now, chop off an arm if only he said the word.
And now they'll be all the way in Japan, furthering connections with the Vongola's tenth generation. At least the work will keep them busy.
It's a little lonely, sending Ciro and Al off, but, at the same time... He can't help but be a little proud. It's Ciro acting on his own, for once, and acting to not only protect himself but try and better Faustino although it's questionable if he'll understand. While the growth has been quiet and subtle, there's no denying it now as he looks over Ciro fondly and reaches over to ruffle his hat. As a look of bewilderment passes over the youth's face, Lancia smiles.
"You two will take care of yourselves, then, right?"
Straightening his hat, Ciro glances back to the lines, where Al is bouncing up as high as he can make it and looking straight over to him. While he doesn't smile, something in Ciro seems to ease up. "Yeah," he agrees quietly, "We'll take care of each other." As Lancia notes the slight change in words, Ciro reaches into his bag and passes over a folded up piece of paper. "When you get back... Can you give this to Faustino? It's the address and new phone number we'll be using. When he decides to use it."
Carefully, Lancia accepts the paper and tucks it into his pocket where it won't get lost. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he gets it," he promises, although he has a feeling it'll be harder said than done once Faustino decides to get up and start throwing a fit for real over this. Well, a promise is a promise. "Now go on- make sure you don't miss your flight."
For a just a moment, Ciro seems to hesitate, but then Al calls his name and he takes a breath. "Right." He inclines his head. "Then.... Until we see you again." He takes off, then, going to join his partner. They don't even have to look at each other for their hands to join, grips obviously tight even from a distance.... And they only look back a few times before disappearing from sight.
Lancia lets out a breath.
Funny. He never thought Ciro and Al would be the first to leave the nest, but there they go.
Now to uphold his promise.