Final chapter! Time for a rescue!
Chapter Eight
It didn't look like there would be a chance to escape, Giorno realized, as he and Abbacchio still sat, hours later, in the office, hands manacled behind their backs. The guards hadn't let them out of their sight, obviously worried they would try something.
Giorno could have tried summoning Gold to release the cuffs but they still wouldn't be able to get out of the building without releasing Caruso's hold on them, and then they would just be trapped inside, waiting for the man to come back with reinforcements, hoping they could get a lucky hit in before they were taken down.
There was no communication between them either as any time they so much as looked at each other, the guards came in with kicks or threats, obviously afraid they would try something.
They seemed pretty stuck.
Much later, Caruso came in, a dark look on his face as he turned to the guards. "We need to do this tonight. I want you to let the others know now. I've already got the men spreading the word."
Giorno's ears perked at this. Was that an admission of desperation? Could the others be on his tail, or was Caruso just wanting to get rid of Giorno and Abbacchio before they caused him any more trouble?
He came to stand over the captives. "I can't afford to have you screwing everything up for me, but I'm a fair man, I'll give you a fighting chance in the ring."
"So you want to make more money off of us before you kill us is what you're saying," Abbacchio sneered.
Caruso smirked. "Can you blame me? Melee fights always make money, especially when they promise major injury and even death as a possibility. The crowd likes that. A little reminder of the old gladiatorial days."
He turned to the guards and nodded to them. They came forward and hefted Giorno and Abbacchio to their feet. "Get ready, boys, because tonight you're going to be taking on the rest of my crew. Last man standing goes free."
Giorno didn't like this at all. With that prize, he had a feeling a lot of the fighters would be willing to do anything. He knew not all of them were here willingly. He and Abbacchio would obviously be the first targets once the fight started, but if they could last long enough for the other fighters to turn on each other too, they might have a chance.
"You okay with working together on this?" Abbacchio asked Giorno who looked up at him in surprise.
"Of course," he replied. "We're both going to get out of here, Abbacchio."
The goth gave him a look. "That's the plan anyway."
They were already locked in the ring when the spectators started coming in. There was a huge crowd that night. Caruso had been right, apparently a melee fight really did draw in the numbers.
There was nothing they could do now but fight. Hopefully they would be able to hold their own by watching each other's backs, since Caruso had made it clear that if he saw Stand powers being used, they would be shot.
Eventually, Caruso came out to announce the fight and opened up the cage to let all the other fighters in.
"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight, we have a special fight for all of you. Last man standing wins! Put your bets down now."
Giorno and Abbacchio positioned themselves back-to-back as the other fighters began to circle them, hemming them in.
"We're gonna demolish you," Wolf snarled. Minotaur licked his lips.
Giorno flexed his hands in the wraps, thinking about the best way to go about this. They couldn't rely on defense the whole time, they would have to take some of the fighters out if they even wanted a chance to win.
"You hurt Cobra, the other night," Giorno murmured to Abbacchio. "He's still favoring his right knee."
Abbacchio hummed in acknowledgement. "Minotaur took a hit to the left shoulder as well. He won't be able to defend himself that well on that side."
Giorno nodded. If they played the others' weaknesses against them, then they might have a chance.
A bell rang and the fighters wasted no time in rushing them all at once. Giorno didn't even try to push back, he pressed his back against Abbacchio's and they spun around as Abbacchio delivered several damaging, rapid-fire hits to the fighters in front of him.
Giorno went straight for kicking, going right for Cobra's bad knee.
The man howled as he staggered back and was instantly replaced by Drago. Giorno had never gone up against the champion fighter, but the man spent little time in leveling a damaging blow right to the side of his head.
Giorno turned to soften it slightly, but it still left his ears ringing and he knew he would have to play more carefully.
Abbacchio caught him before he collapsed however, and spun him toward one of the other fighters as he rushed Drago and slammed a shoulder into his ribs as he bent and grabbed the man's ankle, tipping him backwards and slamming the heel of his foot against Drago's skull.
Giorno was too preoccupied to watch more and found himself facing Wolf. He blocked several blows before he threw one himself, fixing his stance like Abbacchio taught him to put as much power behind it as possible. Wolf's jaw snapped shut and his head whipped back. Giorno used the chain link to heave himself up and kick the man solidly in the chest, sending him backwards only to be trampled by Minotaur.
The huge man practically plucked Giorno from the cage edge and slammed a knee into his middle. Giorno gagged for breath then found his face meeting the ground as a meaty fist slammed into the side of his head.
He must have blacked out for a brief second before he heard Minotaur grunt, and blinked up to see Abbacchio on Minotaur's back, arm locked firmly around his neck as he repeatedly slammed his knee into the small of the huge man's back.
Giorno dragged himself up, slamming an elbow into Minotaur's solar plexus and as he folded with a gasp, he smashed his elbow into the man's jaw as well.
To his surprise, Minotaur dropped with a heavy thud on the mat.
"Glass jaw," Abbacchio gasped, wincing as he put his weight on the knee he'd been hammering into Minotaur's body. "Good thing too because his back was fucking solid."
They were able to take out a couple more fighters by tag-teaming, but Giorno was honestly exhausted and he was sure Abbacchio was getting there too. He had never personally been in a physical fight this long before.
The crowd was going insane, cheering on their favorite—or rather the fighter they had put money on.
Giorno took a brief breather, propping himself up on the chain link as he wiped blood out of his eye so he could actually see. That was when he glanced down and saw a familiar face in the crowd, staring up at him. He stared in shock as Mista met his eyes.
Giorno glanced over toward Caruso who was holding a gun in case he needed it. Mista glanced in that direction as well, and then nodded, seeming to understand the situation.
Giorno turned back to the fight as the gunman began to weave his way through the gathered spectators.
Giorno didn't waste time. They were being rescued. He didn't have to worry about Caruso's rules anymore.
He glanced up to see Abbacchio being set upon and as he went to help, Wolf flung himself towards Giorno, only to be stopped by part of the cage turning into vines and choking him, yanking him back toward a post with a startled yelp.
"Gold Experience!" Giorno shouted and his Stand appeared fully, kicking another fighter in the back of the head as Giorno forced his way toward Abbacchio.
"What the hell are you doing?" Abbacchio demanded, clawing at the art Drago currently had wrapped around his throat.
Giorno took one of his wraps and threw it, having Gold form it into a snake midair. The fighters in the vicinity shouted and parted, leaving Giorno and Abbacchio alone in the scramble.
Unfortunately, that left them unprotected from Caruso.
"Giorno!" Abbacchio shouted, and Giorno turned just in time to see Caruso aiming his gun at him.
Two shots rang out and Giorno felt an impact in his side, forcing him to stagger back as he watched Mista take a flying leap at Caruso, taking him down as the man cried out, holding a bleeding hand.
Abbacchio caught Giorno with a curse as the doors to the building flew open thanks to Sticky Fingers and Bucciarati, Narancia and Fugo burst in.
"Shit, Giorno," Abbacchio gritted out, pressing a hand to the wound that was causing a pool of blood to form above Giorno's right hip.
"S'fine," Giorno gulped as he had Gold begin to heal the wound, turning the bullet back into flesh—he had a lot of practice with that thanks to Mista.
Outside the cage, it was chaos. The spectators seemed to think it was a raid and were trying to get out of there before they could be convicted of illegal betting.
The cage door was ripped open thanks to bullets from Aerosmith and Narancia and Fugo stood there, beckoning to them.
"Giorno! Abbacchio!" they cried.
Giorno gasped in pain at the sudden movement when Abbacchio simply heaved him up and carried him out, summoning Moody Blues to kick aside Wolf as he passed. When they got out, Bucciarati and Mista were detaining Caruso, or attempting to. He had brought his Stand out and while it was not necessarily strong, it was fast and was giving the two a run for their money.
Mista's gun was knocked out of his hand and, though Bucciarati had a hold of Caruso's hand that held his gun, he could still summon his Stand.
"For Those About To Rock!" Caruso shouted.
Giorno dove forward as soon as Abbacchio lowered him to the ground and grabbed Mista's gun. He didn't hesitate as he instantly held it up and fired.
Caruso stopped in his tracks, staring down at the hole in his chest.
"In case you're still questioning it, that's why I'm the Don," Giorno gritted out, holding his side.
Bucciarati swiftly ducked in and used Sticky Fingers to disassemble Caruso's body, just to make sure he wouldn't be coming back.
Giorno slumped, panting, gritting his teeth against the pain of the still healing bullet wound in his side.
"Giorno," Bucciarati breathed and hurried forward, kneeling to grip his shoulders before pulling him into a careful hug. "God, I was so worried."
Giorno took a moment to gratefully soak in Bucciarati's kind embrace before he pushed himself upright more, looking around. But it looked like everything had been taken care of. The fighters had been locked back into the cage with Narancia and Fugo presiding over them.
Mista strode over and Giorno handed him his gun.
"Thanks," Giorno said.
Mista laughed. "Thank you! I was the one who dropped it." He leaned over to wrap Giorno in a hug that was almost tight enough to hurt considering his various injuries but it was still welcome. "Glad we found you in one piece, kiddo—or, more or less one piece, I suppose."
Giorno smiled, licking his split lip as he pressed his fingers to his bullet wound, feeling the skin closing over. "It's good to see you again too, Mista."
Abbacchio endured some of Bruno's fussing as he closed bleeding wounds with zippers, but turned to stare at all the fighters trapped in the ring, glowering at them.
"What are we going to do with them?"
"Give them a choice," Giorno said as he staggered up, leaning on Mista. He looked up to address the fighters. "In case you're not aware, I am Giorno Giovanna, the new Don of Passione," he said. Some of the men had the grace to look humbled. Others continued to glower. "Unlike Caruso, I'm willing to offer you all a choice. If you were kept here against your will, you are more than welcome to leave. If you were here willingly, I will offer you a job in the organization. If you don't want to take it, however, I want you out of this city in three days or I will have you removed. I'll leave you a little while to make your decisions."
Abbacchio snorted, but he was more impressed than anything, he had to admit. The kid really had grown up, he supposed. He almost had some of those men pissing themselves.
Bruno had called in another crew to help clean things up, and when he was done, he turned to Abbacchio. "I'm sure you're both tired. Why don't you go wait in the van?"
He stared pointedly at Giorno who was sagging further against Mista, obviously implying that Abbacchio should lead by example. He rolled his eyes slightly, but couldn't deny he was exhausted.
"Fine," he said and turned to Giorno. "Come on, kid, let's get out of here."
Giorno looked up in surprise and looked like he was about to protest but Abbacchio gave him a look, and he only seemed to slump further against Mista, giving a nod in acquiescence.
The fresh air felt amazing after being cooped up in the basement of that building for so long. Abbacchio decided spending a couple days reading in the garden might be a good recovery plan after this.
Luckily the van was parked right out front of the warehouse and Fugo hurriedly ran to open the door for them as they approached.
Abbacchio slumped in the back of the van as Mista helped Giorno in after him. Both of them were beat to hell and exhausted. Abbacchio lifted an arm instinctively to help haul Giorno inside and the kid pretty much collapsed into his side, eyes shut as he sank further against Abbacchio.
"You good, GioGio?" Mista asked.
"Mm," Giorno murmured, looking like he was already mostly asleep.
"Aww, Bucciarati look!" Narancia chortled. "Abbacchio's actually letting Giorno sleep on him! What the hell happened in there?"
"Shut up, brat, I'm not so tired I can't kick your ass," Abbacchio growled at him half-heartedly. Normally, he might have shoved Giorno away, but instead he found himself pulling him closer. He was too tired to do even that much, he told himself.
Bruno, to his annoyance, gave a soft smile and pushed Narancia away. "Leave them alone, Narancia. I'm going to stay here and wait for another crew to come help clean up. The rest of you get Giorno and Abbacchio back home."
"Sure thing," Mista said and got onto the driver's seat, Narancia and Fugo also climbing in.
Abbacchio closed his eyes as they started moving, feeling Giorno breathing heavily against his shoulder. He checked the kid's bullet wound briefly, but it did seem to be mostly healed with just some residual bruising, which was hard to distinguish among all the others.
By the time they got back, Abbacchio was really feeling the last couple weeks. Maybe it was the fact that the constant adrenaline he'd had to keep up was finally gone, but he honestly wasn't sure he could even get into the house.
He nudged Giorno as they pulled up and the kid stirred groggily, blinking.
"We're home, kid," Abbacchio told him quietly.
Relief flooded Giorno's face and he gratefully accepted the hand Mista offered to help pull him out of the car.
Fugo and Narancia helped Abbacchio out and into the house where Trish ran to meet them gratefully, hugging them both.
"You'll probably want to get cleaned up, but we'll have food ready for you by the time you're done," Mista said as he helped Giorno toward the stairs.
"I'll get the first aid kit as well," Fugo said.
Abbacchio eagerly headed toward his bathroom and took a long, hot shower—one where he didn't have to worry about being jumped. The hot water went a long way to working out his aching muscles, and despite the fact he was literally covered in bruises, he felt a lot better afterward, especially when he was finally able to put on his makeup and his own comfortable, black sweats again.
When he got back downstairs, he found Giorno sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of pasta while Fugo and Trish fussed over his injuries.
"Really, I'll be fine, I'm just going to be sore for a few days," Giorno protested, obviously more worried about eating.
"These bruises look awful," Trish tutted, taping a bandage over a cut on his forehead.
"I promise it's fine," Giorno told her. "Really, I'm just glad to be back home."
"What about you, Abbacchio?" Fugo asked.
Abbacchio waved him off. "Nothing some pain meds and decent sleep can't fix."
Mista put another bowl in front of him and Abbacchio eagerly went at it, the simple pasta a million times better than anything he had eaten in days.
Bucciarati came back while they were on their second helping and Giorno glanced up at him.
"Is everything cleaned up?" he asked.
Bucciarati nodded. "It will take a bit to root out the rest of Caruso's operation, but with the fight ring closed down and him dead, I don't think it will take too much work. And don't worry, we've already dealt with the fighters who refused to cooperate." He came over to sit at the table as Mista hurried to bring him some dinner too. "How are you both?" he asked glancing between Abbacchio and Giorno.
"Nothing a few days of rest won't fix," Abbacchio said and Giorno nodded in agreement.
Bruno sighed. "Well, you both deserve it. I'm only sorry it took us so long to get to you. We suspected Caruso, of course, but it wasn't easy to track down your exact location. I'm glad you were able to get that pigeon to us, Giorno."
"So am I," Giorno said. "And everything turned out all right. It wasn't the worst position we could have been in."
Abbacchio wasn't going to bring up the fact that he had been beaten nearly to death in a bathroom, and Giorno had spent two days locked in a box. If he wanted to leave that out of the report, that was fine with Abbacchio, but if Giorno continued to wake up from night terrors, he might have to have a word with Bruno at least. He knew better than anyone how those kinds of things could crop up again when you least expected it.
Still, they were back, and mostly unscathed. It could have been worse. Abbacchio didn't know where he had gotten this new optimism from, but he didn't really care too much at the moment. It was probably the relief of knowing he could lay his aching body in his own comfortable bed that night.
Bucciarati got up with the stack of empty dishes to put them in the sink. "Regardless, I'm glad you're both back safely."
Giorno pushed away from the table, still obviously holding himself stiffly. "Do we need to do anything else to clean this situation up?" he asked.
Bruno shook his head. "Fugo and I will take care of all of that, there's really not that much to do. We already have a few candidates for Passione members to take over Caruso's position. But you can worry about looking at those tomorrow, Giorno. Both of you just need to worry about resting and recuperating right now."
Giorno sighed, but nodded. "Thank you. You'll have to show me the candidates you had in mind tomorrow."
Bruno nodded and Giorno made his way stiffly out of the kitchen, hopefully to his room. Abbacchio realized too late that he probably had a concerned look on his face when he noticed Bruno watching him.
"Thank you for looking after him, Leone," he said.
Abbacchio grunted, propping his chin in his hand. "It's not like I was just going to feed him to the dogs."
"I know," Bruno replied with a small smile on his lips. "But it's nice to see you two getting along."
Abbacchio glowered at him and stood. "Don't get too used to it. It was extenuating circumstances."
"Of course," Bruno replied with a small smirk that he quickly turned to hide.
Abbacchio sighed and pushed himself up. "I'm going to bed."
"Alright, sleep well."
Abbacchio made his way upstairs and was planning on just crashing in bed, but as he passed Giorno's door, something in his conscious nipped at him and he rolled his eyes and sighed. If he didn't do it now, he never would.
He knocked on the door.
"Oh, you can come in," was the reply from inside.
Abbacchio opened the door to see Giorno watering his copious plants around the room, surprisingly not in bed yet. He looked slightly surprised to see Abbacchio.
"Did you need something?" he asked. "I never asked if you needed anything healed…"
Abbacchio waved away the offer. "Mostly just bruises, I'll be fine. I, um, I just wanted to talk to you for a little bit."
Giorno looked slightly uncomfortable, but was quick to hide it as he took a seat on the bed and Abbacchio pulled out his desk chair, feeling rather awkward. There was really no other way to put it.
"Look, I'm not going to pretend here since I know you're more than aware. I get that I've been a dick to you since you joined."
Giorno's eyebrow rose, but he had the grace not to say anything.
"Mainly because I thought you were just a stupid, reckless kid. Frankly, the reason I hate that so much is because it reminds me of…how I used to be, and I know how that can affect the people around you." He picked at a scab on his knuckle before turning back to Giorno with a reluctant sigh. "But watching you work the last couple weeks—you're reckless, sure, but you also have a head for planning. You're actually genuinely cunning, and not a lot of people can say that. And you have saved my life on more than one occasion now, hell, you practically brought me back from the dead back in Sardinia and I was still a dick to you." He sighed. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry for all of that. And I'm going to try to be better."
Giorno nodded, ducking his head slightly. "Thank you, Abbacchio. Truth is, I don't think I completely understood you before this either. So maybe I should also apologize for being annoying."
Abbacchio snorted. "You really don't have to. You're just a kid after all. This is a big job, and I'm sure it's a lot. I couldn't even imagine doing something like this when I was your age. The only thing I want you to remember is that you aren't doing it alone. You have people here to help you, including me."
Giorno gave him a sincere smile, a little lopsided considering one side of his mouth was swollen. "Thank you, Abbacchio. It really does mean a lot to me."
"Just make sure you remember it," Abbacchio said and pushed himself upright again, hesitating slightly before he decided he may as well add this since he had already gone into chick flick territory.
"Look, kid, I don't know what happened to you before you came here, and it's none of my business if you don't want it to be, but if you ever do need to talk…" He cocked his head to one side. "You can always come to me. Bruno's probably better, but I know he can be a little overwhelming, so if you ever just need someone to listen or whatever—you know I'm usually up at night, and I really don't mind if you need someone to vent to. Everyone else does."
Giorno looked slightly surprised, but a small grateful smile curled his lips. "Thank you, Abbacchio, I…I really do appreciate it."
Abbacchio reached out to ruffle his hair, feeling Giorno stiffen a moment before he leaned into the touch. "No problem, kid. Get some rest, huh?"
Giorno nodded and kicked his slippers off, sliding under the covers with a relived sigh. Abbacchio reached for the lamp, but Giorno stopped him.
"Leave it on, please?" he said.
Abbacchio pulled his hand away and nodded. "Sure."
Giorno settled down. "Goodnight, Abbacchio."
"Goodnight, kid."
Abbacchio closed the door quietly behind him before heading to his own room. Exhaustion was pulling at him and he sank gratefully down on his bed, stretching out as he felt all his aching muscles start to relax.
It felt good to be home.