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Bruno awoke with a small gasp, shooting straight up in his bed. He frantically, but still with all his capo sense, scanned the room for anything out of the ordinary. Upon finding nothing in the shadows, he closed his eyes and tried to slow the rapid pace of his breathing.
This was a regular occurrence for Bruno. At first it was the faces of his victims that consumed his dreams. It didn’t matter who they were, what their story was, or why they had to die; the guilt Bruno felt would never subside. He had managed to push it down, far enough that the dreams didn’t bother him as much. He still woke up in a tangled mess of sweat-drenched sheets, but he was no longer running to the adjoining bathroom to empty his stomach every time. He no longer sat on the cold tile floor, head in his hands, struggling to breathe as the faces of those he killed plagued his vision. It was manageable, and that was all Bruno needed.
But lately, things had changed. The dreams had returned in full force, but they were no longer about his guilt. They were about his fear.
For years, Bruno had been alone. No one to care for, no one to worry about. Now, he had a family.
It was small, and by no means cemented, but Bruno had already come to care for them so much. Fugo had been living with his capo for nearly six months, and the boy already trusted him more than he had trusted anyone in his life. And Bruno had come to care for the child in a way he couldn’t quite describe. He felt protective, was the closest he could get.
Then, there was Leone Abbacchio. Bruno couldn’t control the urge to shiver every time that name rolled off his tongue. He cared for that man in a very different way. They had known each other barely a month, and Leone still had a long way to go in terms of trusting, but Bruno had figured out his feelings immediately. It was love at first sight.
Therefore, the impulse to protect his family only grew stronger, as did the fear surrounding his potential inability. He wasn’t a weak stand user by any means, and he knew it, but he had seen some powerful stands and would always be aware that someone somewhere could be stronger than him. They could overpower him, and hurt his family.
Bruno’s breathing had calmed. The ceiling of his bedroom came back into focus as he counted the divots in the drywall. Just as he was able to drift back into sleep, a creak in the floor came from the kitchen. Bruno wasn’t sure he would’ve heard it if he wasn’t still flowing with adrenaline from the nightmare. He remained in bed, wondering if the noise wasn’t a construct of his imagination as he succumbed to sleep.
But the sound came again, louder now, footsteps. Bruno immediately jumped out of bed and summoned his stand. Bruno opened his door, peeking for the hall, and walked quietly towards the source of the sound, with Sticky Finger close behind. Bruno got closer to the sound, and from the corner of the kitchen doorway, he thought he saw a glimpse of purple. He paused. People weren’t purple. Bruno stopped in his tracks and send his stand up ahead, ready to take the offensive. Bruno inched closer, listening intently. He reached the end of the hallway and took a deep breath before turning into the kitchen.
He saw it then. A stand.
It was humanoid, like his own, but it was smooth. No harsh, jagged edges. Only flush, silky metal, shined to a glowy magenta. When it moved, you could make out a blue hue under the lights. The most shocking part of the stand, was it had the shape of a woman. A long veil covered her head and shoulders, while the rest of her body was curvy and slim. She seemed to wear silver thigh high boots, although it was in the same way Sticky Fingers “wore” a helmet. He didn’t imagine it could be removed.
Bruno first recognized the stand as one he did not know and Sticky Fingers launched forward, zipping the stand across the middle into a perfect half.
A thud from the living room. The user.
Bruno ran to the other room, looking for his target. Instead, he found Leone, zipped in half. His torso laying over on the couch, propped up with one elbow, his legs had fallen off of the couch and onto the floor below. The man’s expression was not impressed.
“Hey!” Abbacchio said, sternly but not so loud as to wake Fugo. “Do you want to put me back together?”
Bruno just stared. First at Leone, then back towards the kitchen.
“That’s your stand?”
Leone rolled his eyes, but immediately cursed under his breath and blushed. “Yes, that’s my stand. And I don’t usually bring her out when there are people around. Which I didn’t think there would be at 4 in the morning.”
“Right,” Bruno said, just now remembering his unexplained presence, “I couldn’t sleep.”
Nice one, Bruno.
Idiot.
“You said ‘her’?” Bruno stated it as a question.
“Yeah,” Abbacchio looked at the man, an unreadable expression in his eyes, “I know your stand is supposed to be the manifestation of your soul, and I’m a man and I am perfectly happy with that, but for some reason, she’s a woman.”
Bruno looked back at the kitchen. “Is that the reason you don’t bring her out?” He re-thought his bluntness for a moment, but Abbacchio just scoffed.
“No, of course not,” he said, looking past Bruno and into the kitchen where his stand was lying, still zipped in half. “I don’t bring her out because she’s annoying as all hell.”
Bruno chuckled. Sticky Fingers had his quirks, but Bruno wouldn’t necessarily call him annoying.
“Hey, Bruno.”
Bruno looked down at the man on the couch. Leone’s lavender sunset eyes stared back at him, glistening with intent.
“Can you, please, zip me back together?”
“Oh my god,” Bruno gasped, “yes, of course, I’m sorry.”
Sticky Fingers released the zippers after Leone and his stand were reconnected. The man stood up and walked towards Bruno, stopping barely a foot from the dark haired man’s face. Bruno felt a warm touch around his shoulders, but he looked up to find Leone hadn’t moved. He heard a noise then, a buzz and a couple clicks, like a dial-up internet modem. Bruno looked over his shoulder to see Leone’s purple stand hugging Sticky Fingers from behind, making whirring noises in his ear. Leone followed his gaze, and the second he noticed he purple cassette player, he called her back, leaving Bruno with cold shoulders and a pouty stand.
“See what I mean?” Leone asked, blushing about 8 shades darker and avoiding all eye contact with Bruno. “She’s annoying.”
Bruno smiled and chuckled lightly. He leaned closer to Abbacchio, closing the small distance between them.
“I’d call her adorable.”
He pulled Leone into him and kissed him the only way a true Italian can: with passion.
Leone jumped in surprise, but deepened the kiss, grabbing Bruno’s face with his hands.
After a few seconds, Leone let his stand out again, and she cuddled back up to Bruno’s, letting out purrs of affection in his ear.