So after writing Hearts of Gold, I had to continue the same verse and give Abbacchio a girl, so yes, here's another OC romance XD
This story is set about 6 months after Hearts of Gold, but you don't necessarily have to read that one first as this is pretty much it's own plot. If you want to see how Maria met Bruno though, check out the first one ^_^
This story is rated for some mature themes. I will be sure to add warnings to particular chapters when needed.
Iron and Roses
A JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Fanfic
Chapter One
Leone Abbacchio slogged through the wet, chilly streets, pulling his coat tighter around him. It had been raining for hours now, making his usually pretty easy job of collecting protection money annoying. He was glad he at least had taken Bruno's advice and brought an umbrella along. The man seemed to have an uncanny ability to know when it was going to rain, probably from growing up near the ocean. He was still really looking forward to nothing but getting home and having a nice warm dinner.
The patter of rain against the umbrella and the wash of streetlights across the wet sidewalk never failed to remind him of that night Bucciarati had pulled him out of the gutter. It was a memory that he both wished to forget and one he could never stand to. He hated the man he had been back then, but he also knew that that night had been the beginning of his redemption.
He snorted at himself. The rain made him way too philosophical. It would almost be a relief to get back to the nonsensical chatter of the others.
He walked a little further until he spotted another figure; someone else who was stupid enough to be out in this mess, except they didn't have an umbrella and were probably soaked to the bone even under that ratty looking overcoat.
Abbacchio normally would have ignored this figure and kept his nose out of other people's business but something about them seemed to catch his eye. The restless pacing, on the steps of a church, no less, seeming indecisive. Those were the kind of actions that spoke of an uneasy mind.
And then they turned around briefly and Abbacchio saw the woman's face lit in the streetlight, hair plastered to her head, dark streaks of makeup running down her face from either rain or tears—maybe both. The desperate, grieved look was one that instantly went to Abbacchio's heart, one he knew all too well. The woman was also carrying something in her arms, bundled inside the coat…
Her face crumpled and she seemed to decide whatever she had been trying to, running up the steps of the church and under the small overhang that kept the rain from her briefly. She took the bundle from under her coat and knelt, placing it gently down at the door of the church.
That was when Abbacchio heard the thin wail of a baby and his eyes widened in sudden understanding.
The woman got up, shaking, and took her coat off, placing it over the bundle before she turned, hugging her arms around herself as she started back down the steps and into the rain. The baby wailed again, louder, and she buried her head in her hands, stopping there on the steps, rain pouring down, before she ran back and grabbed the baby again, just standing there holding it, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
Abbacchio finally remembered that he was just standing there, watching. What could he do though? Of course, Bruno would have already gone over there to help the woman, probably picked up that baby himself if she had left it there, but Abbacchio wasn't very good with these sorts of situations.
Still, he knew what it was like to be left with no options. He could at least see if he could help.
So he walked over to the bottom of the church steps where the woman was still pacing, holding the baby, letting out soft sobs every once in a while.
"Hey," Abbacchio called.
She jumped and spun around, giving him a glare. "What do you want?" she demanded, tilting the baby away from him.
Abbacchio handed her his umbrella. "I just thought it looked like you could use this."
She hesitated slightly before she reluctantly tucked the baby into one arm and took hold of the umbrella.
"Thank you," she murmured. "Now…can you please leave me alone?"
"That depends," Abbacchio said, trying to ignore the rain that was now soaking his hair, dripping down the back of his neck. She shot him a deadly look and he pressed his lips together, shaking his head. "It's just…you look like you could use some help. Are you sure you want me to leave you alone?"
"That doesn't concern you," she snapped and the baby made a noise of discomfort, drawing her attention downward, her shoulders shaking again with a shuddering breath.
"Look," Abbacchio said. "I don't know what you have going on here, but that baby needs to be somewhere warm. And you do too."
A desperate sob escaped her throat. "I know, I just…I can't bring her back home…I don't…I haven't paid rent for three months and I'm going to get kicked out tomorrow. I just wanted the baby to have a chance. I know I can't keep her, but I just…I can't bear to let her go."
She started sobbing then, collapsing on the wet steps of the church, rocking the bundle back and forth.
Abbacchio stood there, watching for a long second before he reached into the inner pocket of his coat and took out a wad of his collections for the day, not even counting it, knowing it was more than enough. He would pay Passione back out of his own pocket later.
"Here, take this," he said, holding out the thick stack of cash.
The woman's eyes blew wide, shaking. She made no move to take it. "I—I can't."
"Yes, you can," he said and simply bent and tucked the money into the pocket of her coat. "Go home, pay your rent, and use the rest to buy whatever you need for the baby. And yourself."
She still stared at him blankly, seeming unable to comprehend what he was doing. Abbacchio tucked his hands into his pockets almost self-consciously. "Look, if you ever need anything, come to the restaurant, Libeccio—you know it? Ask for Bucciarati's team there."
Her eyes widened in understanding and her look turned wary, face paling even further. "You're a mafioso."
"Yeah," Abbacchio replied. "Name's Abbacchio. Leone Abbacchio. Now. Go home. Get out of this rain."
The woman stared at him for a long moment before she stood slowly and held the baby tightly. Then she walked off, now sheltered by the umbrella.
Abbacchio watched her until she disappeared into the night then continued on his own way home, quickening his steps to get out of the rain sooner, cursing under his breath.
He was still soaked completely by the time he got back, wincing as he slid his coat off his shoulders, wondering if he should let it drip in the hallway or hang it in the laundry room. He sighed as he took the damp protection money from the inside pocket, realizing just how much he had given that woman. He would be paying that off for a while.
"Leone, oh, you're completely soaked!"
He looked up to see Maria coming to greet him, and huffed with a shrug.
"I thought you brought an umbrella," she chided, taking his coat from him.
"I did," Abbacchio replied with a sigh. "Where's Bruno?"
"In the office," Maria said. "Please tell him dinner is almost ready. And go get something dry on!"
Abbacchio shook his head fondly at her fussing. He hadn't thought he would ever like to be fussed over, but there was something about Maria that made her impossible to get annoyed with.
He made his way to the office, finding Bucciarati there exactly where Abbacchio had left him that morning, still going through paperwork even though he should, by all means, be done for the day. He looked up when Abbacchio came in though, brow furrowing slightly at his wet hair.
"Ah, Leone, there you are. How did it go?"
"Fine," he said, putting the small stack of damp money down on the desk, biting his cheek. "Look, all the people paid, but…I had to…give some of it away on the way back."
Bruno's eyes widened, taking in Abbacchio's slightly disheveled form. "You weren't mugged, were you?" he asked skeptically.
"No," he huffed. "There was a woman. She had a baby, she was going to leave it on the church steps in the rain, and I convinced her not to." His cheeks tinted slightly, especially when Bruno's face softened impossibly in understanding. He hated when the capo got to be proved right about the fact that Leone was slightly—deep, deep down—just a bit soft inside.
"Ah, hence the loss of your umbrella," Bruno noted in that perceptive way of his.
Abbacchio gave a small nod. "I'll pay what I gave her back out of my own pocket, I just didn't have anything on me."
Bucciarati took the stack of money and set it to one side. "Don't worry about it," he told him simply. "Passione takes care of the people in this city now. I trust you to make good judgement when it comes to who needs it."
Abbacchio shrugged, but was glad he had given the woman the money. He wouldn't have been able to sleep that night thinking about that baby left in the rain for who knew how long.
"Anyway," he cut in, "Maria says dinner's almost ready."
"I suppose that means it's time to stop working," Bruno replied with a tired chuckle as he stood.
Abbacchio shook his head with a huff and left to hurry upstairs and dry off before he ate.
The table was already chaos incarnate when he walked in. Narancia was arguing with Trish about something and Mista was having a very loud conversation about cuts of meat with Giorno that would probably, undoubtedly turn to cannibalism at some point. Fugo was still trying to clean up school books and papers from a tutoring session with Narancia and Giorno earlier, looking like he was getting angrier and angrier from the chaos by the second.
"Hey, pipe down a little," Abbacchio growled at all of them as he yanked his chair out and sat down, already feeling a headache forming. "Why aren't you helping Maria with the food anyway?"
Trish and Narancia instantly shut up and hurried into the kitchen, before their bickering started again. They came back out with serving dishes, Maria behind them.
"Okay, everyone quiet down for dinner," she told them pleasantly, having an effect Abbacchio wished he could achieve.
Bruno came into the room and dropped a kiss to Maria's cheek. "Thank you, cara. This looks delicious, everyone."
Luckily, stuffing their faces was enough to make everyone shut up, and Abbacchio felt a lot better after getting hot food inside of him. He was admittedly still a little shaken by his encounter with the woman earlier. He'd seen it too many times before, especially when he'd been a cop, had even been the one to find a couple babies left at the door of the police station. But something about this woman had been just a little different. Maybe because she had obviously so desperately wished to keep the infant. He had suspected she was likely a prostitute, and that made her choice even more confusing to him. But he didn't know the whole story, obviously, and it certainly wasn't his place to pry into the lives of strangers. If nothing else, he hoped that she could at least live comfortably for a few more months. He was pretty sure she wouldn't come to him for help again, despite his offer.
He still thought about her that night though, his heart heavy with the remembered feeling of hopelessness he himself had experienced. Long nights alone with nothing but your thoughts, thinking of all your past mistakes until they became nightmares that wouldn't let you sleep. Not without being too drunk to care anymore.
Of course, he didn't know this woman at all, not really. He'd just gotten this sense. The sense of a kindred spirit, maybe. The only difference was that Bucciarati had found him when he had been at his worst and given him the chance of redemption. Maybe, if only slightly, Abbacchio had been able to do that for this woman tonight. Pay forward some of the kindness he had been shown, the belief that he could do better. It was really the least he could do.
However, as he lay down, trying to sleep with the sound of the incessant rain still pounding on the roof, he cautioned his conscious in getting too ahead of itself. After all, what had he really done? Handed money to a woman in need—money that wasn't even his. Abbacchio was no saint, and he shouldn't pretend to be.
"You don't even know her name," he muttered to himself in annoyance as he fought to find sleep. And yet for some annoying reason, there was something about her that stuck in his head and wouldn't go away.
Abbacchio had the feeling that this wasn't the last time he would see this woman.