Chapter Text
Bruno could only be strong for so long, and his father dying was the last straw. Even after joining Passione and taking out his father’s murderers, he never felt any better. He was left a seventeen-year-old boy, a murderer, and now forced to work for those who ruined his life. It would make sense for a kid like that to fall into some bad habits. Even if it is the one that got his father killed.
----
Bruno felt amazing.
Whatever the fuck Passione had going around Napoli, it was doing a great job helping him forget. He could barely feel his fingers at this point. He layed back and allowed it to overtake him.
He was swallowed whole. The guys he came here with were long gone next to him. He didn’t know them too well. Did a mission with one, had dinner or a meeting with another. It didn’t matter honestly. Bruno just couldn’t bring himself to be alone. It was always so much worse when he was alone.
Instead. He could focus on the breaths around him, feeling his own breaths synchronize. His body hummed and he felt like a cloud. Dizzy and breathless, he closed his eyes.
After what felt like moments, his eyes peeled open to a bright light. His eyes slowly registered to the commotion surrounding him. The others he was with were shouting or fighting, cops surrounding them. A young man stood above him watching him wake up. Bruno stretched out slowly, allowing the still very present drowsiness to sit to the side, in favor of the view above him.
“He-llooooooo, handsome,” Bruno smiled to the officer. “To what do I owe this pleasure~?”
The officer frowns and scoffs, picking up the fucked up younger man off the ground and cuffing him with his friends.
----
It took four more hours, but the kid finally sobered up enough to actually have a conversation with the officer that brought him in.
Abbacchio stared down the boy. He looked a lot better than the others did. If he hadn’t caught him glazed-eyed and out-of-it, he never would know he was a junkie. It was honestly impressive.
The officer was being stared down with intense emotionless eyes. The kid had only said two words since he became coherent. “Phone Call.”
He was worried about giving into this kids request. The confidence with which he held himself spoke power. He didn’t know what kind of power a nameless eighteen-year-old orphan could hold, but Abbacchio wasn’t sure of much these days.
After an hour-and-a-half of asking questions and getting the same demand at the end of each, the officer finally gave in.
His call lasted no longer than seven seconds. Immediately after, the kid shut down completely. With only a contented smile and large observant eyes, he said nothing else. At the end of each ignored question, Abbacchio glared. Not even three minutes later another officer called out as he hung up a phone call.
“Did someone bring in a guy named Buccellati? Let him go.”
The kid’s smile widened and he slowly stood, fixing his messed up clothes as he did. Abbacchio quickly stood to meet him, “On whose order?”
“Didn’t ask. Neither should you.” The officers went back to their work, not wanting to be a part of whatever scene one of their resident heroes might try to pull.
The kid, Buccellati, turned to the door, but stopped short. He allowed his head to turn just enough that the officer could see his lips as he spoke. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of any help to you, sir . I guess you will just have to arrest me some other time. Arrivederci, Officer Abbacchio.”
And with that, he left.
----
Fugo was frustrated. This isn't the first time Buccellati snuck off to do shit like this. It wasn’t even the first time he had to be called out of the police station for it. But, it had become too frequent of a problem for Fugo to continue ignoring.
At first, it didn’t seem like too big of a deal. His boss was perfectly capable at all times. Level headed, intelligent, kind. Losing his boss for a few hours every couple of weeks was not too bad. He could always find something to do. Fugo started making a calendar. Marking each day he’d lose track of Buccellati. Over the last two months it had become weekly.
Recently as a distraction, he had been visiting a boy Buccellati helped in the hospital whenever he’d go out alone. After realizing he’d seen the boy three time last week, he began to worry. Now, at 7:00 at night, Fugo was seeing his boss for the first time that day. That had never happened. Buccellati would have never thought of not checking in before one of his… escapades. It was only getting worse now.
----
Bruno looked like shit. He knew it. And he felt like shit too. Fugo had every right to be pissed at him. He knew he deserved it. He had been a disappointing leader the last few weeks, but he couldn’t let any of it show.
Fugo could eat him alive if he showed any shame or weakness. It’s what he liked so much about the kid. He could tear a man apart with intellect alone. That was incredibly useful, when it was on your side. Bruno had to get it together enough to keep the kid from noticing. If only that stupidly attractive cop could have just given him that damn phone call when he asked.
“I’m sorry for not speaking to you today, the cops around here are… persistent.”
“And what were you doing that required you to be picked up by the cops?” Fugo had gotten eerily good at copying his own ‘Disappointed Mom Look’ as it was called. The kid knew damn well what he had been doing, and just wanted to push at him a little bit. Bruno refused to lie about what he was doing. If he became comfortable doing that, then he feared there would be no stopping this from taking over his life completely.
Buccellati nodded. That was the only answer Fugo would get for now.
“Now,” he began. A new facade rested on Buccellati’s face. It was as if he were a different person: hard, determined, and cold. “Would you like to bring up anything else before we go over what Polpo tasked us with yesterday?”
With that, the conversation was over. There was no more open discussion. “No. Let’s move on.” They sat at their usual table in La Ristorante and began to eat and speak. It was like any other night.
----
The paperwork was a bitch. Whenever some high level guy ended up on the street again, for no good reason, the arresting officer would always be stuck with the task of covering for their asses.
Technically he could have kept the kid from walking out, but he’d either be fired or killed. There was no playing by the rules, and there certainly was no winning when your whole city is run by crime.
Abbacchio became a cop to stop this shit, not aid it.
That smug fucking face .
The way that kid looked at him… It infuriated the officer. He held none of the power in that situation. Abbacchio was standing over him, asked him questions, had him handcuffed to the table, was the law itself in that situation, and yet that piece of shit had all of the power.
“ Why? ”
“Why what?” Abbacchio’s partner, Matteo, had been watching him angrily stare at filled out forms.
“What was he doing getting fucked up with those bottom tier kids? I’ve never seen someone released so soon after a call. Those other kids didn’t even get their calls answered. He said one fucking word, and he’s out? I don’t get it…”
Matteo laughs to himself, disregarding the glare he received. “Don’t get why he gets high, or why he gets high with gang trash?”
The officer huffs into his hands, “I don’t know. Both? I guess.”
“Well, he did tell you to arrest him some other time, didn’t he? Just ask him then.” His laugh grew as his partner rolled his eyes.
----
Bruno set his alarms, way more than any normal person should have. He was not about to leave Fugo alone again due to his habits .
He hated having to be alone. The high itself wasn’t worse, but the silence as the effect began could be haunting. He quickly through some Miles Davis record on and let it spin. It was better for him to get it done now, than to hurt his friend and colleague.
It was at least a little better…