Chapter Six
Abbacchio slowly came to, cringing against a dull ache in his head that stabbed behind his eyes when he tried to open them. His whole body ached, actually, but the sensation was concentrated in his skull, throbbing along with his pulse rushing in his ears.
Why the hell did he feel so bad? Had he gone on a bender?
Finally prying his eyes opened showed that he wasn't in his old apartment nor in the Passione mansion, but in the fight club dormitory, and that was when he remembered getting jumped in the shower, and Giorno foolishly coming to his rescue.
Dammit, the kid…
Abbacchio pushed himself upright, but his head jangled in pain, causing him to groan, taking a deep breath.
"I wouldn't," a voice said from close by.
Abbacchio squinted up to see Drago standing over him, arms crossed over his chest.
Abbacchio snarled at him, looking around to see if Giorno was there, but the kid wasn't in his cot or anything. That didn't bode well.
"You took quite a hit to the head, you'll probably just make yourself vomit if you stand up," the fighter said blandly and walked over to the cupboard where they kept the first aid kit. He came back with a bottle of pain pills and tossed them onto the cot next to Abbacchio.
"Where's the kid?" Abbacchio demanded.
Drago folded his arms back over his chest. "He's serving his punishment for disobeying Caruso's orders."
"The hell does that mean?"
"It means he's not your problem right now," Drago said. "You're only alive because Caruso told them not to kill you. He doesn't want either of you stirring up trouble, understand? Trying to get any of the other men around here on your side isn't going to do anyone any good, got it?"
Abbacchio was furious but he also did feel incredibly nauseous from the pain in his head and he slumped back on an elbow and grabbed the bottle of pills, opening it clumsily. So that's what this had been about? Because he'd talked to Cobra for five minutes? Caruso really didn't take any chances.
"Don't worry about the kid, you'll see him again in a couple days," Drago said before he left Abbacchio to his own devices.
That didn't dissuade the goth's worries any. In fact, knowing Giorno's punishment was going to last days was worrying enough. But he also knew that anything he did would only risk making things worse for both of them.
He was also pissed though. Giorno didn't need to save him. He could take care of himself. Even though he had been nearly unconscious, bleeding on the floor of the bathroom. He could still taste old blood in his teeth and knew something had been bleeding inside of him. As his eyes finally traveled down his bare torso, he realized that there was not nearly as much bruising as there should have been. Giorno must have healed him as well despite everything.
"Idiot," Abbacchio murmured as he swallowed the pain pills dry and slumped back on the cot, allowing his eyes to shut again. There was a nagging in the back of his head (one that was, worryingly, sounding less like Bucciarati) that was kicking him for not following up on what had happened to Giorno, but realistically, he couldn't even stand right now, let alone make his way across the room. Giorno would understand that. He'd take care of the kid later…
Abbacchio didn't have the other fighters' respect anymore, though he was probably lucky they chose to ignore him above anything, whether those were orders or not. The first day he spent lying in bed, but after that he was able to get up and around. Maybe the sleep had helped Gold Experience's residual healing power to work faster because aside from some aching and some pretty horrific bruises, he didn't feel nearly as bad as he should after a beating like that.
Still no sign of Giorno, which made him increasingly worried. He tried to ignore the jeering speculations from the other fighters about what had happened to the kid, but he had no way of knowing if any of them were correct or not. He hoped they weren't. He felt like shit for letting the kid take the punishment just because he had been too weak to move.
That night after dinner though, the guards came up to him.
"Boss said the brat's punishment is done. You can come get him if you want."
Abbacchio rose cautiously to his feet, wary of some trap as they led him up to the main floor of the warehouse and over to a corner of the large room.
Abbacchio hadn't known what to expect, maybe Giorno locked in a room without food or water, most likely beaten, but as the guards approached the box that was sitting in one corner, Abbacchio's heart sank at the same time he felt fury rush through him.
"Don't tell me the kid's in the box," he growled.
One of the guards smirked at him as the other pulled out a ring of keys to unlock the padlock.
"How do you know he's still alive?" Abbacchio demanded, surging forward before the one guard held him back. "Can he even breathe?"
"There're air holes, and he was banging around there last night so I'm sure he's fine."
"Pieces of shit," Abbacchio snarled, fists clenching in fury as they opened the box and reached inside.
A small sound of surprise and pain was heard as they lifted a curled lump out of the box, tossing him unceremoniously onto the floor.
"Giorno! Shit!" Abbacchio breathed, stepping forward and crouching down to try and help unfold the boy's cramped posture.
"Careful, he pissed himself," one of the guards jeered.
"Fuck off," Abbacchio snapped back and leaned over Giorno who was attempting to shield his eyes from the light, whimpering pitifully. "Hey, it's all right, kid. You're out of there now. Come on."
Giorno flinched as Abbacchio slipped his arms under his curled figure and simply picked him up without another word to the guards, carrying him back down to the dormitory.
He was unable to avoid all the other fighters who sneered and tried to engage him but he ignored them all, almost regretting the fact he had Giorno in his arms or he might have been able to punch them in the face.
He finally got Giorno back to his cot and laid him down on top of the blanket. He could exchange it later for a clean one, but he wanted to assess Giorno's condition before he threw him in the shower. He seemed to be in shock, not to mention his body seemed to be locked up after so long in a cramped space.
To Abbacchio's surprise, Giorno had clenched a hand into his shirt and it pulled when he set the kid down, forcing him to have to sit on the side of the cot.
"Easy, kid," he said quietly. "You're out of there now."
Giorno's eyes finally blinked open, still cringing slightly at the light. Abbacchio shifted to shield him from the worst of it. "Abba…cchio…" he croaked.
Abbacchio sighed and made to stand up again. "Let me get you some water. Try to stretch out a little, okay?"
He hurried to get a cup of water and when he came back Giorno's face was contorted in agony as he shifted on the cot. Abbacchio hurried back over to try and help, taking hold of one of Giorno's knees and slowly easing his legs away from his chest.
"Easy, we'll go as slow as you need, I'm sure it doesn't feel good."
Tears leaked from Giorno's eyes and all of a sudden, he latched onto Abbacchio, fingers clutching in a death grip as his chest heaved with silent sobs and his body trembled uncontrollably.
Abbacchio sat there for a second, stunned, before he lowered his hands to Giorno's head and back, attempting to soothe him as well as he could. His fingers found muscle knots on Giorno's back and tried to work them out to relax the teen more.
The crying seemed to be cathartic though because by the time Giorno was finished, just hiccupping softly, he seemed more himself.
"I'm sorry," he croaked.
Abbacchio turned to grab the water and helped Giorno drink some. "You don't have to apologize. If anything, I should be apologizing. This happened to you because of me."
"Couldn't let them kill you," Giorno murmured. "'Sides…felt good…to show them what I can really do."
Abbacchio couldn't help the dry laugh. "You feel ready to go get cleaned up?"
Giorno's cheeks tinted pink in embarrassment and nodded. Abbacchio helped him up as Giorno tried to bite back sounds of pain and they very slowly made their way to the bathroom.
Abbacchio stood guard at the shower stalls while Giorno cleaned up, not trusting any of the other fighters not to try anything stupid.
Luckily the warm water seemed to help Giorno's muscles and though he was still a bit stiff and hunched, he was able to make it back to his cot, stretching out on his back with a groan.
"You're probably hungry," Abbacchio commented as he grabbed a new blanket to drape over Giorno. "I'll go raid the kitchen for something."
Giorno looked reluctant for him to leave but the other fighters were all mostly still watching tv in the cafeteria right now so Abbacchio was okay with leaving him for a couple minutes while he went to the kitchen.
He passed over the slop from dinner and found a can of soup and some bread and cheese. He heated some of the soup in a mug and brought it back to Giorno who sat shakily, reaching for it.
Abbacchio sat on his own cot as he watched Giorno eat hungrily, the food bringing a little color to his skin.
"Feeling better?" he asked as Giorno swallowed the last of the soup.
The kid nodded, lowering the mug and wiping his mouth. "Yes. How about you?"
"I'm alive," Abbacchio murmured, then reluctantly added, "Thanks, by the way."
Giorno looked up at him with some surprise but nodded.
"Don't think that gets you out of trouble for being an idiot, though," Abbacchio growled. "How many times do I have to warn you about pulling stunts like this before you actually learn how to take care of yourself?"
Instead of protesting, Giorno hunched over himself, looking small. "I'm not going to apologize for saving my comrades. Even if I had known the…punishment beforehand, I would have still done it. We're both alive, that's what counts."
Abbacchio closed his eyes briefly with a long sigh, but couldn't really deny that sentiment either.
"Abbacchio," Giorno said firmly. "We're getting out of here. I don't know how yet, but we are getting out of here."
"I guess I have no choice but to believe you," Abbacchio said with a slight roll of his eyes.
"I am the Don," Giorno replied with a tired smile.
Abbacchio jerked his chin at him as he reached out to take the mug from his hands. "Whatever. Why don't you get some sleep then?"
Giorno didn't look like he needed much bidding. He rolled onto his stomach and buried his face into the pillow.
Abbacchio, who had been exhausted from worry and his own injuries that last couple of days, stretched out on his own cot and was quick to join him.
It was dark and he couldn't breathe. The walls were closing in, crushing, squeezing him no matter how hard he fought. It only made it worse. Even if he had a voice to scream he wouldn't have. That would only make them mad, and they would hurt him again.
The darkness was thick, unbreathable, suffocating, he was going to die in here, he was going to…
"Giorno!"
Someone grabbed his shoulder and he flailed awake, fighting against the wrapping around him, a small cry escaping his throat.
"Easy, just a nightmare," someone hissed and pulled away the constricting item.
Giorno gasped for breath, body soaked in sweat, chilled, as he blindly latched onto the shape in front of him.
"Shut him up!" someone snapped, sending a jolt through Giorno as he prepared for a blow.
"You shut up," another voice growled, this one closer.
"Don't," Giorno whispered, pleaded. "Don't make me go back…I'll be quiet, I'll be good…"
"Kid, it's just a dream," the gruff voice finally filtered through his muddled brain and Giorno blinked his eyes open, shaking himself as he made sense of his surroundings. Ambient light illuminated the pale hair of the man bent over him, large hands anchoring him by the shoulders as Giorno's fingers dug bruises into his forearms, having latched onto the only lifeline he had.
As realization dawned, shame came with it and he forced himself to release Abbacchio, pulling away from the older man's grasp. How the hell was he ever supposed to gain Abbacchio's respect if this sniveling child was all he ever saw?
"Sorry," he whispered.
Abbacchio sighed and, instead of leaving, worked to untangle Giorno's blankets. "There's no shame in having nightmares, you know," he grunted. "We all have them. Fact is…I might just like you more when you show your human side."
Giorno glanced up at him in shock. How could Abbacchio prefer this version of him? No one had ever said that to him. Growing up, showing any emotion had been a weakness others would only exploit. It had never made him likable.
"Look, I get that you think you need to act tough, and be the big bad Mafia boss, but you're only fifteen and you need to get over yourself. It's okay to have nightmares, and it's okay to have trauma and it's okay to not get over it instantly. Fact is, sometimes letting it out helps more than bottling it up, and believe me, it took a long time before I realized that, no matter how much Bruno tried to hammer it into my head."
Giorno was surprised to hear this from Abbacchio of all people but maybe he had a point.
"Okay," he said softly, not knowing what else to say.
"Just get some sleep kid," Abbacchio said, sounding tired as he sat back down on his own cot. "I'll wake you up again if you start having another nightmare."
Giorno didn't want to admit to how much comfort that brought him, but he lay back down on his side, pulling his blanket up over his shoulders.
"Abbacchio," he whispered after a moment of silence and saw the other man crack an eye open to stare at him.
"What?"
"I want to figure out how to get out of here," Giorno said firmly. "It's been over a week. If the others haven't found us by now, then, maybe we need to think of another option than just waiting."
Abbacchio was silent for a moment before he nodded slowly. "I feel you, kid, but if we do it, we have to get it right. Something tells me if we screw up we won't get a second chance."
"I know," Giorno said, trying to push thoughts of the box away from his mind. "That's why we need to come up with a plan. Are you with me?"
"I don't really have another choice, do I?" Abbacchio muttered as he closed his eyes again, obviously dismissing the conversation.
Giorno tried to get comfortable on the cot again as he contemplated a possible escape plan. What he really needed to find out was the exact range and power of Caruso's Stand. Then it was just a matter of finding weaknesses.
Giorno thankfully had a full two days of rest and recuperation, which he spent stretching out his muscles and doing some more light training with Abbacchio. The other fighters avoided them completely, which was good, considering they were trying to discuss possible escape plans. Actually, a lot of the fighters looked wary when they crossed paths with Giorno now. It seemed that using Gold Experience had only helped his reputation among them, but he didn't miss the malice in their eyes either and knew it wouldn't go well the next time he was in the ring, all eyes on him to make sure he wasn't using his Stand. He was going to have to be on his toes.
And inevitably, another fight came and they all had to file upstairs to the main floor and the gathered crowd.
The spectators seemed particularly excited that night, shouting for their favorites when they came out.
Caruso was there off to the side, talking to one of his men as they tallied up bets.
Giorno waited anxiously for his turn. Abbacchio was pitted against Cobra that night and took him down in almost embarrassingly short order, gaining the crowd's approval. It seemed he was becoming a fast favorite with them, if not with the other fighters.
Then Giorno was called up to face off with Wolf again. The fighter sneered at him as he tied wraps around his hands. Before Giorno could step up into the ring, Caruso grabbed his shoulder.
"Through some irony, the majority of bets are actually for you to win," he grunted. "So, you're gonna take the fall tonight. Understand?"
Giorno glanced up at him, eyebrow cocked. Caruso squeezed his shoulder painfully. "It will be easy. Just wait for my signal and let Wolf make it look good."
Giorno still didn't reply and felt Wolf's eyes boring into him. Caruso dug his fingers into Giorno's shoulder even harder.
"Do you understand?" he growled.
"Of course," Giorno replied and pulled away, stepping up into the cage.
As he faced Wolf and the door locked behind them, he realized he had absolutely no intention of losing.