[Faustino has never told him everything, and Ciro has always accepted that.]
[To Faustino first, and then the Caro, Ciro knows he owes them everything. Without Faustino, he would have just been yet another broken child of the Estraneo, discarded into the pile of corpses they had made in their pursuit for some idea of "glory". Without the Caro Family- well, who knows? Maybe another Family would have taken them in. Maybe they'd stay wild, running away from human beings which had made themselves so untrustworthy back then. It'd be a different life, or sure, for better or worse... but Ciro has become content with it.]
[And, for years, he's been content with the fact that Faustino doesn't tell him or Al everything. That he does things on his own. It's simply a part of how he is, and why worry about it? Faustino is one of the strongest people he knows, matched only by Lancia.]
[Why worry about it. Until now.]
[Even Al doesn't buy that Faustino is alright after he was kidnapped. Ciro doesn't have to ask him about it. Unlike Faustino, secretive to his core, Al wears his heart on his sleeve, and him and Ciro have always been two different halves of a whole. Perhaps he smelled the amount of blood in the Abbandonato labs, or it's just pure animal instinct.]
[Ciro doesn't have anything like that. He just knows when he's being lied to.]
[Anything else.... For any other event, he'd let this pass. For any other place, not swathed with the overwhelming smell of medicine and blood and death.]
[He pauses at the sound of Faustino's voice, hand still curled up near the wood of the door, and takes a breath. This isn't something he's been looking forward to. In fact, more than once he's wanted to emulate Ken, and simply avoid the foul air around their friend and most beloved. But he can't run away from this. He won't. So he opens the door and steps inside, shutting it behind him.]
[Despite the fact that Al was the more aggressive, loud, and persistent of his two subordinates, it didn't surprise him that Ciro would come to him first. Al was simple by nature, and even if he didn't like the circumstances, if Faustino told him to sit and stay on train tracks while the train came hurtling down towards him, he would do so without question. Ciro, perhaps, might do the same, but he wouldn't be happy about it. Ciro, after all, made himself indispensable because he was the brains where Al was the brawn, who could manage their more rowdy companion when Faustino wasn't around. He was the one that Faustino could depend on to assess a situation almost as well as Faustino himself could have.
So even without Lancia telling him his lie was a poor one, Faustino already knew. But he had felt the need to save face, in more ways than one.
He leaned back against the pillows propping him upright in the bed, smirking. His face was healing well enough that he only needed the lightest of illusions, though he kept the bruising.]
Well enough that this bed rest is unnecessary.
[He raised an eyebrow at the question, canting his head to the side.]
Dare I ask what trouble you and Al have been in during my absence?
[With the same quiet slow steps that he’s had since he was young, since he first met Faustino, Ciro goes to grab a chair and nudge it to Faustino’s bedside.]
I guess…. Mainly getting mysterious frightening phone calls about a missing person…. Having to track someone down…. Ensuring the murder of a small mansion of people…
[Hands on his lap, he makes direct eye contact with Faustino.]
That sort of trouble, I suppose.
[Just like his footsteps, Ciro’s voice is quiet, but there’s no denying that…. Well. To say he’s “upset” is putting it rather mildly. After a moment, he glances away again, and reaches up to nudge his glasses back into place although it’s not really needed.]
...What really happened? That you aren’t telling us?
[It was hilarious to Faustino in a way how much scorn and disapproval the other boy could put into his voice without raising it or changing the tone at all. In the same way he could make Al heel without having to yell, Faustino could tell he was going to be properly lectured by the time this was over. If he were a decent person, he would apologize for putting Ciro and Al what he had, but no matter where they were or how many time had passed, Faustino couldn't claim he would ever become such a creature. So instead he met Ciro's gaze with an amused one, canting his head to the side.]
It sounds like fun. Getting to see Lancia in action is no terrible reward. [And, before he could be met more fully with that scorn, he added:] I'll have you meet M.M. next time we're in the area. You might like her.
[It was always difficult to gauge with Ciro. All he had to do with Al was say that he liked a person and Al would follow suit. Ciro was far slower to warm up, and while he tended to trust Faustino's judgement, he had more complex issues at play than Al or perhaps even Faustino in that regard.
The question was rather direct for Ciro, and a small chuckle escaped him regardless.]
Does it matter? Isn't it more important for me to say it'll never happen again?
[Because what was answering a question in a straight forward or honest manner. Or making promises in that respect.]
[Not a single word is unexpected, or a surprise twist. This is how Faustino has always been. In fact, if he'd been asked and deemed it not too much of a waste of effort, Ciro is certain that he could have given a rough estimate of the exact words that have just been spoken to him. Maybe not exactly, but, surely, close enough.]
[For some reason, however, his heart still gives a slow but painful squeeze.]
[Quietly, he diverts his gaze, focused solely on the soft folds the blanket made as it draped across Faustino's leg. It hurts to say as much, but... This isn't the sort of thing he can be satisfied with anymore. So, quiet but honest, he answers.]
I think you said something similar when we were younger.
[And they've been words that have been upheld for years now. Sure, they got into trouble, or hurt, but... They never, none of them, ended up trapped in a cage, and experimented on, or toyed with.]
[What a long memory Ciro had when it came to such sentimental traps. Faustino watched him, expression unmoving and similarly unmoved. Even though he treasured Al and Ciro more than he would ever dare say, he was still his own person, free to make decisions for himself. He was beholden to no one, and had no orders to follow but his own whims and desires. If Ciro was looking for comfort that Faustino would consult them next time, he would be gravely mistaken. If Ciro was looking for the truth, well. He had come to the wrong place. Even for his own, he would not take any perceived slight against his freedom, no matter how minuscule or unimportant.
He let his lashes flutter down, a sly small smirk on his face.]
Just how many of my words do you remember, I wonder?
[Under Ciro's watchful gaze, he straightened out his blankets idly.]
What should I say now to appease you now that we are older?
[Everything, because Faustino and Al have been, for the longest time, the only reasons he has thought gave any credence to living. If he lost both of them, Ciro is certain that even the reassurances of the boss and Lancia wouldn't be enough to drag him out of such a pit. That kind of thing would be a despair so much sharper than the scalpels of the Estraneo, dig so much deeper than their needles could ever pierce, and he would welcome its suffocating weight until his lungs collapsed because what point was there to living without them?]
[So, for as long as he has been by their sides, he has remembered everything about them. Every little thing from Al, he's committed to memory, and felt a quiet warmth when the other has beamed or whined playfully at him. Faustino's words have been carved into his bones, his heart, his mind, all to keep stride with him in some way possible so that he wouldn't disappear from his view.]
[Except, for a few horrifying days, he had.]
[It's not unusual for Ciro to go quiet and turn away in thought, and he does so now, watching Faustino's hands. The one thing he had swore- him and Al together- was that they wouldn't let anything like that happen again. Not to each other, and not to Faustino. Yet, he knows, you can't protect someone if they do not want to be protected, if they do not allow it, and Faustino has never allowed those kind of chains to hold him back.]
[I love you. Those, too, are words a part of Ciro whispers, not just today, but all the time, constantly. In the back of his mind, circling through his heart, they've repeated. Much like so much, however, he is certain that Faustino would either not accept them, not truly, or he would never say the same because he never says so much to him and Al. It is exactly that problem that lead to Ciro being completely in the dark about what danger Faustino was in, right up until the point that he got a phone call from a number and a voice he didn't recognize and felt his heart stop.]
[What could he have done differently? Was he not skilled enough, not trusted enough? Would he be skilled enough to bring him back, drag him out of that kind of hell they'd torn themselves free of so long ago?]
[Back then, in the nights leading up to the rescue, Ciro had thought about such things for hours on end. They'd consumed him, drowned everything out besides Lancia's words and Al's touch. Alone, shameful as it is to think, he doubts he would have been able to do anything at all. Every single scenario, every single thing he could possibly do, he'd gone through, blaming himself...]
[...But what could he have done without Faustino permitting it?]
[Now, watching those beautiful fingers work idly on the blankets, he knows there's nothing that was available to him, then. Faustino's pride and actions are not anything he can control. If that leads to disaster, then it leads to disaster, but it's not his fault. Aching for a fact to be different doesn't change a fact.]
[All he can change is... his own actions.]
[So, even though it doesn't bring him any joy, slowly, he looks back up to Faustino's mismatched gaze. What can he say now to appease him? Ciro wishes he could say. He wishes that it was such a simple matter of words. But it's not. And because it's not...]
I'm going to Japan, after asking the boss. [The words taste like betrayal on his tongue, and it goes down his throat with his next ones.] I've asked Al to come with me.
[The first few days, even weeks, they had spent here, Faustino had felt it for the lie it was. Family was the reason that he had spent all of his years, and the lifetimes of others, suffering. Family was the reason why he had been hated. For the good of the Family was why he had been subjected to unspeakable torment, and it would have lead to his death had he not gotten as strong as he was. Even though Don Caro told him repeatedly, with actions and words, that they were welcome here, that they would be cared for, that they were Family, that word was a poison to Faustino. He couldn't trust them, not even all these years later, even after they had come to rescue him. They were still mafioso to be despised and hated, to only be befriended with a smiling mask placed over his true feelings, to be used and discarded when they were broken.
Living in this comfortable atmosphere, where everyone greeted them with smiles, had apparently managed to get Ciro and Al to lower their guards, if Ciro was speaking this nonsense to him. He felt his face still, far more telling than any expression he could have ever conjured, because Ciro of all people would know what it meant. Shutting down, detaching, not wanting to look and numbing oneself. Because for all the betrayal the Estraneo Family had heaped upon him, he had never thought Ciro and Al would do this to him. Leaving without asking his permission was something they would have never done otherwise. He had been a fool doubly in this matter, to believe he could take on a family all by himself and that Al and Ciro's loyalties were still his and his alone. ( A small part of him whispered that this is what he had done to them, so tournabout was only fair play, but that part was easily squashed. They were Faustino's, after all, to be moved and used as he saw fit. After all he had done for them, he was not the one who was going to be left behind. )
Unfortunately or fortunately, he was not completely like Ciro. His expression would only be blank for so long before anger clouded it, and he could feel his right eye burning as if it had been drenched in flames. Carefully, he closed his eyes, smiling as if his mouth was full of knives, as if he was one step away from ripping out Ciro's vocal cords from his lying throat with his teeth. Thoughts wild, he knew he could also take this out on Al, to make him choose where his true loyalties lied, but that would be akin to kicking the dog just because the housewife had been unfaithful. It was cruelty with no real reason. This was Ciro, in a way that he had never thought possible.]
Is that so? Enjoy your stay. Japan is a beautiful country.
[Would they still take the identities that Mukuro Rokudo had crafted for them, or would they eschew those as well? And had Ciro completed his betrayal by telling the Don all that Faustino had been planning and doing underneath his nose? It would be easy, to kill him now, as defenseless as he was, to have him keep his silence. But despite the rage and despair ( and hurt ), there was also a cold clinical side to him that knew death was too easy. Living was where the real torture and torment lied.
He unclenched his fingers from his blanket ( when had they gotten like that? and without his permission? ) opening his eyes to look at Ciro, really look at him.]
[Frankly, he's expecting some form of punishment. Illusions to make him question reality and his own choices, a dagger in his side, being outright tackled, even a slap.... He expects it, and is ready to accept whatever it is. After all, why should he not be lashed out at? Years ago, he and Al promised that they would stick by Faustino forever, until their bones gave way and their flesh rotted. Doing this.... is a betrayal. A breaking of the most important oath.]
[But in the end, the only punishment he receives are Faustino's words, and Ciro closes his eyes. Just words, but they hurt so much. He wants Faustino to wait for him like he's had to wait for Faustino so many times before in the past, to welcome him back. Except that's not their roles in life, huh?]
I'll still be waiting for your call.
[Opening his eyes again, forcing himself to look Faustino in the eyes and face all that rage and despair, he braces himself.]
Because that's what you have to do if you want me, Faustino. I'm yours, from my body to whatever it holds. But waiting here for you while you go do whatever you please, without telling us even when there's a chance you could get into a situation like this...
[A deep breath. He'd be a liar if he said it didn't shake a little bit.]
...I refuse to go through that again. Waiting, oblivious and ignorant, knowing you were being tortured, unable to have helped sooner or even help then because you tell us nothing...
If I stay in Italy, the next time you inevitably do that.... I'm just going to go through that again. I'm going to sit here, wondering what I could have done, torturing myself, all because your pride was too much to call on me from the start.
[Carefully, he pushes himself up to his feet, gaze flickering to where Faustino's hands had clenched so tightly. His fault.... but Faustino isn't without blame here either.]
...But if you call me, no matter when, I'll come. Even away in Japan, I'll still be yours.
All you have to do is call for me.
[He wonders if Faustino's pride will allow him to do even that much.]
Usually Faustino was the one who spoke at great length, who used his words to reassure the others, who made all the decisions. And yet here he was, as mute and unmoving as Ciro normally was, and with a small, quiet sigh, he turned away from his subordinate to look out the window. Those words were beautiful, but how could he trust them when the action were completely juxtaposed to them? ( And yet he knew down to his bones, to his very cells, to his molecules, even if he called ten, eighty, years or lifetimes from now, Ciro would still be there, waiting for him.
Faustino couldn't extend the same courtesy to him, too enraged and hurt and betrayed to even look at him any longer.]
What would you have done, I wonder?
[It wasn't even vanity, but Faustino knew himself the strongest of the three of them, the most clever. Ciro and Al would have hindered him, would have been kidnapped and tortured alongside him.
There are many more things he could say to hurt Ciro further, to take the knife he's used on him and return it a hundred fold to it's owner ( you're replaceable, who would want you, there's no reason for me to call on you- ) but something stays his tongue. He can't be sure what it is, though perhaps he was far more sentimental than he thought.
It didn't stop the ugly, snarling chuckle that wrenched itself out of his mouth at the thought of Ciro still being 'his' while saying these things, and he rounded on the other boy like a viper might a mouse, eyes sharp and narrowed.]
Will you? It seems to me as if you have made your loyalties more than apparent.
[He was tempted to ask just what Ciro had told the Don, but in this moment he knew all the schemes that Ciro and Al were a part of would have to be abandoned, taken apart and buried. He would have to start all over again, and that was just as irritating as being abandoned.]
[To the first question, Ciro can only give a silent shrug, exhausted. What could he have done? He genuinely has no idea. Certainly, Faustino had been beaten, and that's no small feat. There's a good chance that they very well could have just been taken as well, had him and Al gone with.]
[But.... He's not asking for that. Only that they could have been told. Could have been given an idea of when he'd be back, so that they could have recognized things as they happened instead of having the good luck that Faustino's partner for this little venture had cared enough to call him. Had known to call him.]
[He doesn't say any of it. For one thing, arguing with Faustino is many times arguing with a brick wall with a questionable haircut and bad temper. For another... He's already said all he's needed to and, frankly, it's exhausted him. But then, that's how it is, isn't it? It's a good day when he doesn't need to speak, when he can rely on Faustino or Al to make the necessary points.]
[But.... He needed to speak this time. He needed to desperately hope that Faustino would understand.]
[The venom that accompanies his beloved leader and friend's words say that he hasn't, and Ciro doesn't even have it in him to flinch. His gaze is just tired as he looks to Faustino before he turns away to head for the door.]
You'll know my loyalties when you call. [And, so badly, he hopes Faustino does one day.] But, in the meantime.... Please recover well.
[Yet he lingers at the door, hoping to hear something before any phone call, hoping for anything.]
"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.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
warmskies) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
badliifechoiice22016-01-08 10:36 am
no subject
[To Faustino first, and then the Caro, Ciro knows he owes them everything. Without Faustino, he would have just been yet another broken child of the Estraneo, discarded into the pile of corpses they had made in their pursuit for some idea of "glory". Without the Caro Family- well, who knows? Maybe another Family would have taken them in. Maybe they'd stay wild, running away from human beings which had made themselves so untrustworthy back then. It'd be a different life, or sure, for better or worse... but Ciro has become content with it.]
[And, for years, he's been content with the fact that Faustino doesn't tell him or Al everything. That he does things on his own. It's simply a part of how he is, and why worry about it? Faustino is one of the strongest people he knows, matched only by Lancia.]
[Why worry about it. Until now.]
[Even Al doesn't buy that Faustino is alright after he was kidnapped. Ciro doesn't have to ask him about it. Unlike Faustino, secretive to his core, Al wears his heart on his sleeve, and him and Ciro have always been two different halves of a whole. Perhaps he smelled the amount of blood in the Abbandonato labs, or it's just pure animal instinct.]
[Ciro doesn't have anything like that. He just knows when he's being lied to.]
[Anything else.... For any other event, he'd let this pass. For any other place, not swathed with the overwhelming smell of medicine and blood and death.]
[He pauses at the sound of Faustino's voice, hand still curled up near the wood of the door, and takes a breath. This isn't something he's been looking forward to. In fact, more than once he's wanted to emulate Ken, and simply avoid the foul air around their friend and most beloved. But he can't run away from this. He won't. So he opens the door and steps inside, shutting it behind him.]
How are you feeling?
no subject
So even without Lancia telling him his lie was a poor one, Faustino already knew. But he had felt the need to save face, in more ways than one.
He leaned back against the pillows propping him upright in the bed, smirking. His face was healing well enough that he only needed the lightest of illusions, though he kept the bruising.]
Well enough that this bed rest is unnecessary.
[He raised an eyebrow at the question, canting his head to the side.]
Dare I ask what trouble you and Al have been in during my absence?
no subject
I guess…. Mainly getting mysterious frightening phone calls about a missing person…. Having to track someone down…. Ensuring the murder of a small mansion of people…
[Hands on his lap, he makes direct eye contact with Faustino.]
That sort of trouble, I suppose.
[Just like his footsteps, Ciro’s voice is quiet, but there’s no denying that…. Well. To say he’s “upset” is putting it rather mildly. After a moment, he glances away again, and reaches up to nudge his glasses back into place although it’s not really needed.]
...What really happened? That you aren’t telling us?
no subject
It sounds like fun. Getting to see Lancia in action is no terrible reward. [And, before he could be met more fully with that scorn, he added:] I'll have you meet M.M. next time we're in the area. You might like her.
[It was always difficult to gauge with Ciro. All he had to do with Al was say that he liked a person and Al would follow suit. Ciro was far slower to warm up, and while he tended to trust Faustino's judgement, he had more complex issues at play than Al or perhaps even Faustino in that regard.
The question was rather direct for Ciro, and a small chuckle escaped him regardless.]
Does it matter? Isn't it more important for me to say it'll never happen again?
[Because what was answering a question in a straight forward or honest manner. Or making promises in that respect.]
no subject
[For some reason, however, his heart still gives a slow but painful squeeze.]
[Quietly, he diverts his gaze, focused solely on the soft folds the blanket made as it draped across Faustino's leg. It hurts to say as much, but... This isn't the sort of thing he can be satisfied with anymore. So, quiet but honest, he answers.]
I think you said something similar when we were younger.
[And they've been words that have been upheld for years now. Sure, they got into trouble, or hurt, but... They never, none of them, ended up trapped in a cage, and experimented on, or toyed with.]
[Until recently, anyway.]
no subject
He let his lashes flutter down, a sly small smirk on his face.]
Just how many of my words do you remember, I wonder?
[Under Ciro's watchful gaze, he straightened out his blankets idly.]
What should I say now to appease you now that we are older?
no subject
[Everything, because Faustino and Al have been, for the longest time, the only reasons he has thought gave any credence to living. If he lost both of them, Ciro is certain that even the reassurances of the boss and Lancia wouldn't be enough to drag him out of such a pit. That kind of thing would be a despair so much sharper than the scalpels of the Estraneo, dig so much deeper than their needles could ever pierce, and he would welcome its suffocating weight until his lungs collapsed because what point was there to living without them?]
[So, for as long as he has been by their sides, he has remembered everything about them. Every little thing from Al, he's committed to memory, and felt a quiet warmth when the other has beamed or whined playfully at him. Faustino's words have been carved into his bones, his heart, his mind, all to keep stride with him in some way possible so that he wouldn't disappear from his view.]
[Except, for a few horrifying days, he had.]
[It's not unusual for Ciro to go quiet and turn away in thought, and he does so now, watching Faustino's hands. The one thing he had swore- him and Al together- was that they wouldn't let anything like that happen again. Not to each other, and not to Faustino. Yet, he knows, you can't protect someone if they do not want to be protected, if they do not allow it, and Faustino has never allowed those kind of chains to hold him back.]
[I love you. Those, too, are words a part of Ciro whispers, not just today, but all the time, constantly. In the back of his mind, circling through his heart, they've repeated. Much like so much, however, he is certain that Faustino would either not accept them, not truly, or he would never say the same because he never says so much to him and Al. It is exactly that problem that lead to Ciro being completely in the dark about what danger Faustino was in, right up until the point that he got a phone call from a number and a voice he didn't recognize and felt his heart stop.]
[What could he have done differently? Was he not skilled enough, not trusted enough? Would he be skilled enough to bring him back, drag him out of that kind of hell they'd torn themselves free of so long ago?]
[Back then, in the nights leading up to the rescue, Ciro had thought about such things for hours on end. They'd consumed him, drowned everything out besides Lancia's words and Al's touch. Alone, shameful as it is to think, he doubts he would have been able to do anything at all. Every single scenario, every single thing he could possibly do, he'd gone through, blaming himself...]
[...But what could he have done without Faustino permitting it?]
[Now, watching those beautiful fingers work idly on the blankets, he knows there's nothing that was available to him, then. Faustino's pride and actions are not anything he can control. If that leads to disaster, then it leads to disaster, but it's not his fault. Aching for a fact to be different doesn't change a fact.]
[All he can change is... his own actions.]
[So, even though it doesn't bring him any joy, slowly, he looks back up to Faustino's mismatched gaze. What can he say now to appease him? Ciro wishes he could say. He wishes that it was such a simple matter of words. But it's not. And because it's not...]
I'm going to Japan, after asking the boss. [The words taste like betrayal on his tongue, and it goes down his throat with his next ones.] I've asked Al to come with me.
no subject
Living in this comfortable atmosphere, where everyone greeted them with smiles, had apparently managed to get Ciro and Al to lower their guards, if Ciro was speaking this nonsense to him. He felt his face still, far more telling than any expression he could have ever conjured, because Ciro of all people would know what it meant. Shutting down, detaching, not wanting to look and numbing oneself. Because for all the betrayal the Estraneo Family had heaped upon him, he had never thought Ciro and Al would do this to him. Leaving without asking his permission was something they would have never done otherwise. He had been a fool doubly in this matter, to believe he could take on a family all by himself and that Al and Ciro's loyalties were still his and his alone. ( A small part of him whispered that this is what he had done to them, so tournabout was only fair play, but that part was easily squashed. They were Faustino's, after all, to be moved and used as he saw fit. After all he had done for them, he was not the one who was going to be left behind. )
Unfortunately or fortunately, he was not completely like Ciro. His expression would only be blank for so long before anger clouded it, and he could feel his right eye burning as if it had been drenched in flames. Carefully, he closed his eyes, smiling as if his mouth was full of knives, as if he was one step away from ripping out Ciro's vocal cords from his lying throat with his teeth. Thoughts wild, he knew he could also take this out on Al, to make him choose where his true loyalties lied, but that would be akin to kicking the dog just because the housewife had been unfaithful. It was cruelty with no real reason. This was Ciro, in a way that he had never thought possible.]
Is that so? Enjoy your stay. Japan is a beautiful country.
[Would they still take the identities that Mukuro Rokudo had crafted for them, or would they eschew those as well? And had Ciro completed his betrayal by telling the Don all that Faustino had been planning and doing underneath his nose? It would be easy, to kill him now, as defenseless as he was, to have him keep his silence. But despite the rage and despair ( and hurt ), there was also a cold clinical side to him that knew death was too easy. Living was where the real torture and torment lied.
He unclenched his fingers from his blanket ( when had they gotten like that? and without his permission? ) opening his eyes to look at Ciro, really look at him.]
I won't be waiting for your return.
no subject
[But in the end, the only punishment he receives are Faustino's words, and Ciro closes his eyes. Just words, but they hurt so much. He wants Faustino to wait for him like he's had to wait for Faustino so many times before in the past, to welcome him back. Except that's not their roles in life, huh?]
I'll still be waiting for your call.
[Opening his eyes again, forcing himself to look Faustino in the eyes and face all that rage and despair, he braces himself.]
Because that's what you have to do if you want me, Faustino. I'm yours, from my body to whatever it holds. But waiting here for you while you go do whatever you please, without telling us even when there's a chance you could get into a situation like this...
[A deep breath. He'd be a liar if he said it didn't shake a little bit.]
...I refuse to go through that again. Waiting, oblivious and ignorant, knowing you were being tortured, unable to have helped sooner or even help then because you tell us nothing...
If I stay in Italy, the next time you inevitably do that.... I'm just going to go through that again. I'm going to sit here, wondering what I could have done, torturing myself, all because your pride was too much to call on me from the start.
[Carefully, he pushes himself up to his feet, gaze flickering to where Faustino's hands had clenched so tightly. His fault.... but Faustino isn't without blame here either.]
...But if you call me, no matter when, I'll come. Even away in Japan, I'll still be yours.
All you have to do is call for me.
[He wonders if Faustino's pride will allow him to do even that much.]
no subject
Usually Faustino was the one who spoke at great length, who used his words to reassure the others, who made all the decisions. And yet here he was, as mute and unmoving as Ciro normally was, and with a small, quiet sigh, he turned away from his subordinate to look out the window. Those words were beautiful, but how could he trust them when the action were completely juxtaposed to them? ( And yet he knew down to his bones, to his very cells, to his molecules, even if he called ten, eighty, years or lifetimes from now, Ciro would still be there, waiting for him.
Faustino couldn't extend the same courtesy to him, too enraged and hurt and betrayed to even look at him any longer.]
What would you have done, I wonder?
[It wasn't even vanity, but Faustino knew himself the strongest of the three of them, the most clever. Ciro and Al would have hindered him, would have been kidnapped and tortured alongside him.
There are many more things he could say to hurt Ciro further, to take the knife he's used on him and return it a hundred fold to it's owner ( you're replaceable, who would want you, there's no reason for me to call on you- ) but something stays his tongue. He can't be sure what it is, though perhaps he was far more sentimental than he thought.
It didn't stop the ugly, snarling chuckle that wrenched itself out of his mouth at the thought of Ciro still being 'his' while saying these things, and he rounded on the other boy like a viper might a mouse, eyes sharp and narrowed.]
Will you? It seems to me as if you have made your loyalties more than apparent.
[He was tempted to ask just what Ciro had told the Don, but in this moment he knew all the schemes that Ciro and Al were a part of would have to be abandoned, taken apart and buried. He would have to start all over again, and that was just as irritating as being abandoned.]
no subject
[But.... He's not asking for that. Only that they could have been told. Could have been given an idea of when he'd be back, so that they could have recognized things as they happened instead of having the good luck that Faustino's partner for this little venture had cared enough to call him. Had known to call him.]
[He doesn't say any of it. For one thing, arguing with Faustino is many times arguing with a brick wall with a questionable haircut and bad temper. For another... He's already said all he's needed to and, frankly, it's exhausted him. But then, that's how it is, isn't it? It's a good day when he doesn't need to speak, when he can rely on Faustino or Al to make the necessary points.]
[But.... He needed to speak this time. He needed to desperately hope that Faustino would understand.]
[The venom that accompanies his beloved leader and friend's words say that he hasn't, and Ciro doesn't even have it in him to flinch. His gaze is just tired as he looks to Faustino before he turns away to head for the door.]
You'll know my loyalties when you call. [And, so badly, he hopes Faustino does one day.] But, in the meantime.... Please recover well.
[Yet he lingers at the door, hoping to hear something before any phone call, hoping for anything.]
no subject
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.