Pesci woke up feeling uncomfortable. He had pain in his neck again. That was life with cystic hygroma. Sometimes his lymph nodes hurt but thankfully, it wasn't worse than that. He'd heard of cases where extensive surgery was needed to relieve pressure on the tongue and windpipe. He was very lucky. He could be cursed with sleep apnea as well, but he had been one of the lucky ones. He should be grateful to be the person he is in the health that he is. That didn't stop him from refusing to have a single mirror in his room though, and not just for the fact that he was convinced that Illuso was spying on everyone.
He got out of bed and got dressed. The events of yesterday came flooding back to his mind. A lot of it left him confused but he understood one thing. Gelato had been very sad. He knew that people got angry sometimes when they were sad. He didn't really get why he just knew that people did. He wondered if that's why Ghiaccio was so mad all the time. His father had been that way too. His mother tried to explain to him why he left. He knew it was because of him and his brother. His brother was in a wheelchair and Pesci was autistic. That was a lot for a father to accept. She tried to explain that things just didn't turn out the way his father had hoped. He didn't understand and he still cried anyway.
There was too much sadness lately, and Pesci wanted to make everyone happy. The first week after their dad left, his mother had made chocolate chip pancakes for them. He would do the same thing for his family. Pesci went downstairs to the kitchen and rifled through the cabinets. It was seven in the morning. He was usually the first one up. Sometimes he would see Risotto too. Maybe he was awake but just in his office?
Pesci got out all the supplies he needed and he remembered most of the recipe from memory. Any parts he couldn't quite remember, he guessed. He had had a lot of practice in the kitchen with his mom preparing meals. She wanted him to be okay on his own one day and worried about him incessantly. It's okay, Mom, I have friends that take care of me now. I'll be fine. He was careful not to touch the stove because he didn't want to burn himself. He poured the batter into the pan carefully but spilled a bit down the side of the bowl. Sometimes that happens. He wiped it up and waited for the bubbles on the batter to pop before flipping them. That was always his job when they made pancakes, he would point out when the bubbles started to pop and he would tell his mother to flip it. He was very good at that.
The bubbles popped and he flipped the pancake over. It wasn't round like a pancake should be. It reminded him of a fish, the lines on it particularly that of largemouth bass. He missed the days when his father took him fishing. Pesci had always been very patient and enjoyed the peace that accompanied sitting on a boat in the middle of a lake. His dad had shown him everything about different types of lure and how to cast the line properly. He'd even taught him fly fishing. He spent hours looking through his father's fishing lures as a child just gazing at all the different colorful lures. He had a collection of them upstairs in his room and knew what every single one was for. Prosciutto had gotten him a really nice fishing lure for his birthday last year that actually looked like a fish and was truncated in several spots so it would move realistically in the water. It must have cost him a lot seeing the material it was made out of. It sat on his nightstand where he could look at it every day.
He started humming to himself as he continued to pour more batter into the pan.
Prosciutto smelled something from the kitchen and walked downstairs to find Pesci at the stove making pancakes. He smiled to himself. Pesci reminded him a lot of his younger brother, Pollo, who was autistic. He hadn't gotten to see his brother in years though. His parents disapproved of the path he'd chosen in life. They thought being involved in a gang made him a bad influence on his brother and so they made sure to keep him from Prosciutto. He still sent little toy model cars to his brother whenever he could. Pollo had a fixation on cars and the different models there were. He knew every part inside the car and the differences in engines, things that Prosciutto had no idea about. Pollo could tell make, model and the year just by glimpsing the car. Pesci had a similar fixation with fishing, something Prosciutto was also not familiar with.
When he'd met Pesci, he'd known the boy's situation immediately. Pesci was trying to find work but without any employable skills, he had already begun falling in with gangsters who had made all sorts of outlandish promises to him. They were taking advantage of him and his disability, and that pissed Prosciutto off. They didn't know the first thing about someone with autism and it made him angry to think that that could just as easily have been his own baby brother. Prosciutto quickly put an end to that and took Pesci under his wing. He did feel a little bad that he'd turned Pesci into an assassin but he at least didn't have to worry about Pesci's security. Pesci was incredibly strong and it was a paying job. If Pesci had more faith in himself he could probably take out everyone on Esecuzioni single-handedly.
Prosciutto had never told the rest of the team that Pesci was autistic and he didn't plan to do so. There was no reason to. It didn't affect his ability to do his job and he knew it would only bring unwanted bullying from the gang. The squad already picked on him for being a bit of a square, which is why Prosciutto did his best to teach Pesci things he could do that would make him seem a bit "cooler." He wanted Pesci to live a life free of stigma. His brother had always been ostracized for it in public school and it was just another label to Prosciutto anyway. Pesci wasn't any different from anyone else, he just processed things differently. He saw the world in a different light and Prosciutto found that to be a refreshing change.
He watched as Pesci flipped another pancake but missed and it landed on the side of the pan. He had to scrape it back into the middle again. Pesci was too good for this life. Prosciutto knew there really wasn't much alternative for his mentee now, but he would do anything he could to make Pesci's life easier.
"Good morning, Fratello!" Pesci smiled as he turned and saw him standing there.
"Pancakes?" Prosciutto said as he poured himself a glass of orange juice. "That's nice. I haven't had pancakes in a long time."
"I thought it would be nice, y'know, since everyone was so sad. Pancakes always make me happy when my mom used to make them."
"Yeah, Pesc," Prosciutto nodded as he sat down. "That's a nice idea. I think we could all use that today."
"Do you want to be my taste tester?" Before Prosciutto could answer, Pesci put a plate down in front of him and sat the syrup next to it. Prosciutto poured some syrup onto the pancakes and picked up a fork. He cut a piece and stuck it in his mouth. He tried so desperately not to make a face but he saw Pesci looked distraught. He attempted to swallow.
"Pesc, how much salt did you put in?" Prosciutto took a large swallow of orange juice.
"Two tablespoons," Pesci said. "I couldn't remember so I just guessed."
"That's way too much, Pesc," Prosciutto sighed and put his fork down.
"Oh, I guess I messed up, huh?" Pesci frowned. Prosciutto closed his eyes as his heart weighed him down. He wished nothing could ever touch Pesci in this life.
"It was just a mistake. Not a big deal."
"Everybody makes mistakes. Even you Prosciutto?" Pesci asked. He stared too directly at him in a way that would make people uncomfortable but Prosciutto found endearing.
"Yeah, Pesc. I make mistakes too."
"Except in the field. We can't make mistakes during a mission."
"That's right. Good to remember, some members of our team aren't very good at that." Prosciutto stood up and cleared his plate.
"You mean Formaggio, right?" Pesci smiled.
"I do." Prosciutto nodded. "Alright Pesci, get the ingredients out again. We'll just have to start over." He rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands. Prosciutto helped him to measure out the proper proportions this time but otherwise left Pesci to do everything else. As Pesci stirred the mixture, Prosciutto wondered how he was processing yesterday.
"Pesci, how are you feeling about yesterday?" Prosciutto asked.
"It scared me. It was really loud."
"Yeah. Do you know what happened?" Prosciutto asked.
"Gelato hurt himself by accident. And Sorbet was really sad about it. So were Melone and Ghiaccio. They cried. I didn't like that."
"It wasn't an accident. He wanted to kill himself. Do you know why Gelato did it?" Prosciutto needed Pesci to understand what suicide was about in case Gelato tried again and succeeded.
"No." Pesci put the bowl down and looked at Prosciutto.
"Remember what happened to Sorbet and Gelato?"
"Yeah, they were killed."
"Well, Gelato had to watch it. It upset him very much."
"I know, he has nightmares about it."
"Right. Well, sometimes people can't handle things like that so they kill themselves because it's easier."
"It sounds scary. I don't want Gelato to die again," Pesci said.
"I don't either. So we need to be really nice to him until he starts feeling better. Don't mention to him how he hurt himself. It will just make him upset again."
"Okay," Pesci said.
"Let's start making these pancakes before the rest of the gang wakes up." They poured the batter into the pan. Prosciutto had a better time of making sure they were actually round but he still let Pesci do the actual cooking and flipping.
"Fratello?"
"Mm?" Prosciutto began to wash the other bowl they had been using.
"Are you dating Risotto?" Pesci asked. Prosciutto looked up at Pesci. He'd never told Pesci that he was gay, and Prosciutto liked to keep quiet about his private life. "Formaggio mentioned that you were like Sorbet and Gelato and I know they're dating. Illuso said you like Risotto."
"Does that bother you?" Prosciutto asked.
"No, it's good to love people," Pesci said.
"Yes, Risotto and I are dating." It felt weird to say aloud. He'd never discussed it with Risotto before, they had just been involved ever since Risotto had confessed his feelings to him the day they were revived. Prosciutto didn't like labels, but he understood that this was the best way that Pesci could understand.
"Do you love him?" Pesci asked.
"I do." Prosciutto continued washing the bowl without looking at Pesci. The conversation was making him uncomfortable but he didn't want to shut down Pesci's valid questions either. He shouldn't be afraid to question things in the world, especially if it was a foreign concept to him like homosexuality. Pesci at least had a familiarity with it due to living in the same house as Sorbet and Gelato. He hoped that someone would talk to Pollo about it as well one day and show him there was nothing morally objectionable about it. His parents were staunch fundamentalist Christians and found everything about Prosciutto's lifestyle to be sinful. He would love for Pesci to meet Pollo one day. They would probably get along famously.
"I think he loves you too," Pesci said as he flipped the pancake. Prosciutto just smiled to himself.
"Oh, hell yeah! Mom's making pancakes!" Formaggio walked in with Melone and Ghiaccio close behind.
"Shut the fuck up, Formaggio," Prosciutto snapped. "And Pesci made them."
"They're chocolate chip!" Pesci smiled. He put the plate stack down on the island. "Eat up!"
"Di molto!" Melone chirped as he sat down next to Ghiaccio at the island. Risotto and Illuso entered next.
"Wow, something smells good," Illuso commented.
"Hurry, Lu, Pesci made pancakes and they're going fast!" He said as he piled three onto his plate. Risotto walked up to Prosciutto and leaned in. He snuck a quick peck on his cheek and Prosciutto flushed as he looked at Risotto and then the rest of the group. No one had noticed.
"Nice idea," Risotto said, smiling.
"It was Pesci's idea. I just helped him," Prosciutto went back to washing the already clean bowl. Risotto tucked a loose strand of Prosciutto's hair behind his ear. Risotto was just teasing him now.
"Fra, what about Gelato and Sorbet?" Pesci asked in a soft voice. "What if we don't have enough?"
"We'll save some. They might not be coming down, but we'll set some aside for later."
"Okay, good!" Pesci grabbed another plate and put four pancakes on it."
"Remember to wrap them up so they stay fresh." Prosciutto finally gave up on the bowl and put it in the drying rack.
"Did you eat any yet?" Risotto asked.
"Just the first one which had too much salt. We had to remake the whole batch."
"Then come eat," Risotto pulled him away from the sink and they all sat down together.
His fingers hit the back of his throat with the precision of a fashion model. Illuso hadn't planned on doing this today, he thought he'd gotten past this. However, the moment he walked back into his room and saw his reflection after breakfast, the old urges came back. He watched with revulsion as the pancakes Pesci had made earlier swirled in the bowl. He took a deep breath. Pesci had taken special care this morning trying to make something that would uplift the spirits of the entire house after the events of last night—and Illuso had purged it all the first chance he'd gotten. He shook his head at his own failings as he flushed the toilet. He washed his hands and brushed his teeth. At least he didn't have to actively avoid looking in the mirror since Gelato had smashed it last night. Silver linings, I guess.
He opened the door to find Formaggio standing there.
"Hey, Lu. You okay?" Formaggio eyed him with a brow raised. Formaggio had been at the forefront of the intervention put on by him, Melone, and Pesci back before all this shit with the Boss started. It had worked and Illuso crumbled before them and admitted to everything they had feared. He'd sought help for it and had kicked it. He loved himself but he still had trouble loving what he saw in the mirror. He found the old insecurities tended to flare up when he was stressed. He attributed it to last night's events. This was a fluke and nothing more.
"Yeah, something just didn't agree with me, I don't know," Illuso lied.
"Okay," Formaggio nodded. He didn't seem convinced by that. "Risotto said we're loading up within the hour."
"Okay," Illuso started walking away back to his room when Formaggio stopped him.
"Hey, you'd tell me if somethin' was wrong, right?" Formaggio stared at him intently.
"Yeah, you bet." Illuso nodded. "You're always the first to know." Formaggio grinned broadly.
"Alright then, see ya in a bit. We're in Blue's car." Formaggio walked into the bathroom and Illuso went back to his room to finish getting ready.
Sorbet lay in bed watching Gelato sleep. He heard the sounds of the rest of the house awake and bustling about. He had no idea what to expect of the day. He certainly wasn't going to the mixer. He couldn't leave Gelato's side after last night. After yesterday, he really didn't want to go on the mission anymore. He was afraid of Gelato being here by himself. Risotto couldn't exactly babysit and Illuso and Formaggio would be busy too. Maybe he would need to talk to Risotto later tonight about it. He didn't want to do it but he honestly thought a twenty-four-hour suicide watch might be best until Gelato started to get help. Giorno wouldn't necessarily be there next time, and Sorbet knew there would definitely be a next time.
He sighed and stroked the hair of his sleeping lover. He was so beautiful. He kissed Gelato's forehead and his heart hurt. God, I love him so much and I hate that I'm not enough. My love isn't enough to keep him stable, to keep him alive in my arms.
He thought seriously about how nice it would be to have some sort of memory ability. Then he could just wipe their deaths from Gelato's memory and everything would go back to how it was. Giorno said he'd changed his stand by using the Stand Arrow. I wonder if I could too. Sorbet held him in the morning light and contemplated how feasible such a task would be.
Melone gathered the last of his things together and turned to Glacé. "Hey, I'm going to be gone for a while today. We have this big party thing with the whole gang. I'll be back later tonight so don't worry."
"Okay! I'm going to research while you're gone," Glacé chirped.
"That sounds good. Learn all you can about drugs. Could be helpful. Mission tomorrow!" Melone smiled.
"I get to fight!" Glacé exclaimed.
"That's right!" Melone picked up his bag. "Oh, Glacé?"
"Yeah?" He looked up from the laptop that he'd just opened.
"Remember Gelato?"
"Yes, he was sad."
"Yeah, he's staying here with Sorbet today. If you hear any calls from Sorbet needing help or begging Gelato to come out of some room. Go help. Gelato isn't doing well and we love him. So help him out. Gelato already knows about you and Sorbet is cool. Okay?"
"Roger!" Glacé saluted.
"Good boy, see you later tonight," Melone waved and left the room. He walked down the stairs and headed towards the door when Risotto came out of his office.
"Melone, a word?" Risotto gestured for him to follow. He turned and walked into the den where Risotto was waiting by his desk.
"What's up, Riz?" Melone asked.
"I have a sample for you. It belongs to one of the men employed by the group we're tracking. I need you to make a homunculus for this mission. This crew is very good at relocating and going underground so we need your tracking abilities to stay on top of them." Risotto handed Melone a small vial with some blood in it. Melone stared at it. Shit, what do I do? Glacé can't track this guy...can I make more than one? Can I combine DNA with an already existing homunculus? Is that even possible?
"Melone, is that understood?" Risotto looked intently at him. He snapped out of his thoughts and looked back at Risotto.
"Yeah, no problem, Riz. Thanks. I'll do it tomorrow while we're out."
"Okay. Then I'll see you at the mixer," Risotto said as he walked out past Melone to meet Prosciutto in the hallway. Melone slipped the vial into his bag.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Melone had a bad feeling in his stomach.
"Oi, Melone! Get your ass in gear, we're leaving!" Ghiaccio called from the hallway.
"Coming!" Melone ran out the door and headed to the car.