Bruno whump and angst today!

Uncomfortably Numb

Day 16: No Way Out

(Paralytic drugs)

Abbacchio dragged himself out of bed with a tired sigh, wincing as he stretched out bruises and strained muscles. They'd been putting in a lot of hours recently. It was a lot more work than he had expected tracking down the factions of Passione who weren't happy with the fact that Giorno had taken over as the new Don. A lot more Stand users than they had expected too—apparently Polpo had recruited more than even Bruno had been aware of.

On top of that, three of them were still getting over near-death—or in Bruno's case, back from death—experiences and Abbacchio would be lying if he said it was easy. He still woke up most nights with a cold sweat and an ache in his gut, the new scar in the center of his chest twinging uncomfortably. He'd been up enough nights to have to comfort Narancia going through the same thing. No one, of course, should be expected to just get over that kind of thing, but still, he would like to get a restful night's sleep again.

Bruno must have also been getting poor sleep recently, because he actually was not up before Abbacchio this morning.

Which was…honestly a bit worrying.

"Is Bucciarati in the office?" he asked Fugo who was making a cup of tea, dark circles under his eyes.

"No, just me and Giorno. I don't think he's up yet."

Abbacchio went over to start a pot of coffee and looked up to see Narancia stumbling in, eyes still closed.

"What's for bre'fast?" he murmured.

"Whatever you're making, brat," Abbacchio snipped.

Narancia rubbed an eye and looked around accusingly. "Thought Bucciarati was making pancakes."

"He's probably resting after yesterday, I'll make' em!" Mista said as he also showed up in the kitchen, Trish following soon after with a yawn.

Abbacchio frowned and watched the coffee drip into the pot. That was everyone up before Bruno which was practically unheard of. Had he left to do something early? No, Fugo or Giorno would have been up early too and likely would have seen him leave. That only left options Abbacchio wasn't very fond of. Because Bruno didn't sleep in. He barely stayed in bed when he was sick or recovering from injuries.

Abbacchio also didn't trust him not to have gotten injured yesterday during the fight and not bothered to tell anyone. He did that way too often as it was. Relying on zippers to close wounds and thinking that was a sanitary option.

Deciding to put his mind at ease, Abbacchio made his way upstairs and knocked on the door to Bruno's room.

"Hey, you up?" he called.

There was no answer. Abbacchio felt worry settling into his stomach and he reached for the doorknob.

"Bruno?"

When he opened the door he was surprised, and slightly unnerved to find Bruno just sitting on the side of the bed, fully dressed for the day, staring down at his hands.

"Bruno," Abbacchio called again, heading inside. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I can't feel anything, Leone," was the quiet answer.

Abbacchio frowned, not sure he had heard correctly. "You what?"

Bruno finally turned to him and the look of pure terror in his eyes stuck Abbacchio to the core. "I—I can't feel anything."

"What do you mean you can't feel anything?"

Bruno shrugged his shoulders briefly. "It's like…you know in a dream, you can see yourself and the things around you and are aware of touching them but because it's a dream, there's no real sensation." He took a shaky breath. "It's just…it's just like when…when I was…"

He trailed off, and Abbacchio stepped closer to the bed, trying to swallow down the panic in his throat as he pressed his fingers under Bruno's chin. A bit of relief washed over him as he felt warm skin and the pulse beating under his fingers.

"You're not dead," he said simply.

"What am I, then?" Bruno asked shakily, picking up his hands and staring at the palms. "Because it's like I'm looking at my body, and I'm able to control it, but without being able to feel it, it's almost like I'm not really here at all."

Abbacchio suddenly grabbed one hand and dug the nail of his thumb into Bruno's palm. "Do you feel that?"

Bruno's brows furrowed. "I can feel that you're solid but I can't really feel what you're doing."

Abbacchio pressed his lips into a worried line. He had no idea what to do about this. He didn't even know what this was. He thought they were done with all this fallout aftermath shit.

"When did this happen?"

"This morning, when I woke up."

"Alright, well, I'm getting Giorno; he might be able to figure it out with his Stand."

"Leone, don't," Bruno wobbled to his feet as if figuring out his footing. "If…if this is some sort of side-effect of him bringing me back, I don't want him to think it's his fault. It might just wear off."

"Yeah, because ignoring issues always works out for the best," Abbacchio scoffed and left the room without allowing Bruno the chance to protest. He knew Giorno would actually agree with him on this one.

XXX

Bruno slumped back onto the bed, pressing his hands between his knees. It was such a strange sensation, knowing there was pressure there, but yet, not really being able to perceive it.

He didn't want to admit how terrified he had been when he had woken up to complete numbness. That had been one of the most horrible things about being dead. Not feeling anything. What if he would be like this for the rest of his life? He wasn't sure what he would do.

He could hear loud voices from below as inquiries rolled in, and soon Giorno hurried into the room, looking pale.

"Bucciarati?" he asked as he made his way over to the bed.

"I'm all right," Bruno insisted. "I just can't…"

"Abbacchio said you couldn't feel anything? Is it exactly like it was…before?" Giorno asked.

Bruno cocked his head to one side. "Not entirely. It's just this…numbness, a detachment almost."

Giorno knitted his brows together and held out a hand before he seemed to hesitate, and asked. "May I?"

Bruno nodded tiredly.

Giorno manifested his Stand and it reached out to place a hand on Bruno's shoulder. After a couple seconds Giorno's frown deepened as he seemed to be in silent communication with his Stand.

"I…your body seems to be functioning properly, but…"

"But what?" Abbacchio asked from where he had been standing in the doorway, arms crossed, seeming to be fending off the others from piling in.

"I don't know, something foreign." Giorno pulled back and his Stand dissipated. "Yesterday when we went after that drug ring, I could have sworn I saw something when the men were retreating."

"You think this might be some kind of Stand attack?" Abbacchio said, looking a little relieved.

There was chattering outside the door before Mista poked his head around Abbacchio, "Actually, Gio, I think I saw something too. I thought one of the guy's shadows looked weird, but at the time, I was just trying to stop them."

Bruno reached up to the back of his neck, where there was a somewhat itchy spot he had thought was a bugbite—well, it had been itchy yesterday when he could still feel. There was still a raised spot though. "Giorno, can you see what this is?" he asked as he pushed his hair out of the way.

Giorno leaned in as Abbacchio also came further into the room.

Giorno made a sound of surprise. "Abbacchio…"

The goth leaned in as well and swore.

"It's some kind of symbol," he told Bruno. "Around what looks like a puncture wound. It…looks familiar..."

"Wait, let me look." Fugo came into the room, eyes widening when he saw the back of Bruno's neck. "This is…"

"The symbol that was found on at least two of those recent overdose victims," Giorno finished grimly. "It was reported as a birthmark. There might have been more too that no one paid attention to."

Bruno frowned, anger churning inside of him. There had been a recent rash of overdose victims in the city, and they had tracked the cause down to the drug ring they were currently looking into, but he hadn't suspected the deaths might have been caused by a Stand.

"If that's the case, then we need to hunt this bastard down," Abbacchio said. "I'll go back to the warehouse and see if I can find out anything about this guy with Moody Blues. We have no idea what kind of time frame we're working with so, let's make this quick."

Giorno nodded. "Fugo, I want you to see if there's any information you can dig up on a Stand user that might have this power. Trish and Narancia, I want you to watch over Bucciarati while the rest of us head out."

"I don't need anyone to babysit me."

"With all respect, Bucciarati, we still don't know exactly what this does or how long it takes to work; it's already been over 12 hours," Fugo commented grimly.

"Exactly, it's better someone keeps an eye on you," Trish added firmly, crossing her arms.

Bruno sighed, but knew how insistent his team could be. "Alright. The rest of you be careful though."

Giorno nodded and left with Mista and Abbacchio. Bruno made to stand up. "I'm not going to sit around and do nothing though, I'll go help Fugo in the office."

Walking was weird, and he found himself making deliberate movements in order to be sure of his footing. Trish and Narancia followed closely behind with worried expressions.

"Are you sure you should be up? What if moving makes it work faster?" Trish asked.

Bruno sighed. "It's impossible to tell, but I would imagine if it's a Stand power, it probably has a method." He stumbled over his numb feet and Trish and Narancia instantly ducked in to take his arms.

"Can't you work from bed?" Narancia asked, eyes wide.

"Not right now," Bucciarati told him.

They made it to the office and Fugo looked like he was about to protest, but Bruno shot him a look and the teen shut his mouth—not without an obviously disapproving look though.

"Are you looking through the database?" Bruno asked him, lowering himself into his desk chair.

"Yes, though I haven't finished digitalizing all of the files we have on the city's Stand users yet so…"

"Let me have the files then," Bruno told him.

Fugo set a stack of them on his desk and Bruno shuffled them around with difficulty.

"Would you like me to get you some tea, Bucciarati? I thought maybe something warm would be nice," Narancia asked as he and Trish stood off to one side, looking helpless.

"Please," Bucciarati told him, if only to give him something to do. Truthfully, he couldn't tell if he was thirsty. Or hungry. In fact, he felt like only more sensations were slipping away from him.

They worked for a while, coming up with not much of anything. It took Bruno a frustrating amount of time to turn pages, fingers fumbling so much Trish finally sat next to him and did it for him.

He tried to drink Narancia's tea, but while he could briefly register that it was warm, it offered none of the comfort a warm drink usually would. Besides, he was afraid to spill it…

Then the words started to swim on the page. Bruno pawed his eyes awkwardly, wondering if it was poor sleep, or a side-effect, but it just seemed to get harder to see.

"What's wrong?" Fugo asked.

Bruno shook his head. "I'm fine." He made to stand up, but found that while he had been sitting at his desk, his legs had apparently just stopped working. He barely caught himself with an elbow on his desk before he tumbled to the floor.

"Bucciarati!" the others all cried, rushing to his side.

Bruno felt a brief moment of panic as he fought for breath, unable to even feel his lungs expanding, pawing weakly at his chest.

"You should lay down," Fugo said firmly and helped Trish and Narancia lift him and drag him down the hall to the couch.

"S-sorry," Bruno murmured, tongue getting heavy now. It was hard to keep his eyes open. This seemed to be getting worse rapidly.

"You need to call Giorno and the others!" Trish said, sounding frantic and…far away. But Bruno could still see her blurry pink figure in front of him.

At least he thought it was Trish. Memories flashed back, of how he had nearly ended everything by mistaking Trish's father for her, when he couldn't see before…

Bruno gasped a breath, realizing he wasn't breathing and tried to consciously pull air into his lungs.

"He's just getting worse," Narancia cried.

"I'll see if they're any closer to finding the Stand user." Fugo said.

"Bucciarati, you need to stay awake!" Trish's voice filtered in.

"Am awake," Bruno managed. He just couldn't seem to open his eyes fully anymore.

Narancia pressed close to him on the couch and Bruno could see his arms wrap around his body, but had no sensation of it.

"It's okay, I'm sure Giorno and Abba and Mista have almost found the guy," Narancia was saying. Bruno watched the thin arms flex around his waist as Narancia squeezed him tighter. "Can…can you feel this, Bucciarati?"

Bruno swallowed hard as his eyes only blurred further. "No," he croaked.

And what was worse still, perhaps, was that he was starting not to care so much anymore. His vision blinked out, but there was no more panic. Just a sense of peace now.

The last thing he heard was his name being screamed from miles away.

"Bucciarati!"

XXX

Cold, unfeeling, no heart to pump blood through his veins—he was as good as a marble statue.

Bruno's eyes suddenly flew open and he gasped, dragging air into his lungs as he flew into a sitting position.

"Bucciarati!"

Hands found his shoulders, holding him upright. Solid, pressing. Bruno looked down in shock as he could feel each finger pressing into his flesh.

He turned his gaze toward Giorno, leaning over him and reached out to touch his cheek, feeling warm skin, running a hand up through his blond hair, soft strands clinging to his slightly clammy fingers. He let out a shaky sigh of relief.

"Can you feel?" Giorno asked, pulling back and clasping Bruno's hand in his, the press comforting.

"Yes," he breathed.

Giorno sank back slightly in relief, but didn't let go of Bruno. "We weren't sure we would be able to find the Stand user in time. When we got back here, I—"

The door burst open and Narancia barreled in. "Is he awake?"

Bruno smiled wanly at the boy and opened one arm in invitation. Narancia let out a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh and lunged into Bruno's arms, holding on so tight he threatened to squeeze the breath from Bruno's lungs, but the fact that he could feel that was the important part.

"Narancia, be careful!" Trish said as she, Fugo, Abbacchio and Mista appeared as well.

"How are you?" Abbacchio asked him, concern obvious in his eyes.

"I'm alive," Bruno said simply. "And I know I am."

As if by unspoken coordination everyone converged on the bed and enfolded Bruno into their midst. He closed his eyes, grateful for the warm press of familiar bodies. It was the kind of thing he knew he would never take for granted.