CHAPTER 18: THE LAZARUS EFFECT, PART 3
The human life has never had any sort of official road map or master plan from start to finish; it is an infinite number of roads intermingling with one another at a complex barely comprehensible by the very minds that are led down these paths. For every life of rags to riches, there is a tale of riches to rags. For every life of ode to joy, there is a life of joy to ode.
The life of Buckley Lloyd is one of the latter. Spending most of his life as a rich hedonist, his desire for Earthly pleasures came to an end when he found his daughter shot and raped in the floor of his home. Having wasted so much of his life on pleasure rather than focusing on important values like caring for his sole child, this event changed his life to dedicate it to a life of crimefighting instead.
Many of his nights do not have much by the way of sleep. Instead, they are mostly spent in front of a series of computer screens, each set to a different local news channel, a police scanner, CCTV cameras, or other sorts of eyes and ears upon the city of Hillwood. The nights he cannot sleep, he chooses instead to put his energy towards defending the city from whatever threat may come.
Most of the crimes he finds this way are simple; usually a mugging or robbery that can be easily dispersed.
What he finds waiting for him on this night, however, is nothing like any sort of threat to the city he has ever laid eyes on.
"All units, all units, we have confirmed reports that crime boss 'Little' Nicky Russotti has escaped from prison and is heading towards Hillwood. All units be on the lookout for a motorcade of black SUVs with tinted windows. Suspects are considered armed and extremely dangerous." The police scanner said.
"This just in, we are getting confirmed reports that infamous crime boss 'Little' Nicky Russotti, often considered by many to be Hillwood's 'Kingpin of Crime', has just escaped from Hillwood Maximum Security Penitentiary just hours ago. Many long-time residents of Hillwood are well-versed in his history of..." One TV said.
"...a history of violence, dating back to his early years as a youth running drugs for the local mafia..." Another TV said.
"...over 200 suspected murders and 37 convicted and confirmed..." A different TV said.
"...feared by even other mafia families, calling him a 'Modern-Day Mussolini'..." A separate TV said.
In a position of wealth like his own, Buckley Lloyd was no stranger to 'Little' Nicky nor his past, and instantly recognized the immediate danger that this placed on the city. Where most nights, he would prefer to face many minor crimes on his own, it was very clear that this was no minor crime, and there was no chance he could handle it alone.
Taking to a radio set of his own, Buckley began calling the Hillwood Heroes, summoning them for this new threat at hand.
"Hillwood Heroes, this is Valiance. We have a Level 10 threat on our hands. All Heroes, converge on my signal and await further instructions." Buckley said.
Taking his helmet and placing it on his head, Buckley Lloyd suited himself up in his full outfit, readying himself for the task at hand of stopping 'Little' Nicky in his tracks. Others would take this moment to allow their own personas to give way to their alter-ego, but this is not the case of Buckley Lloyd.
With little in his own life remaining, there is not left of Buckley Lloyd remaining in his body or mind. All that remains for him is pure, unbridled vengance; vengeance kept only in check by the reigns of the Green Eye. This particular vengeance also has a face and a name.
Its face is a knight's helmet shrouded in a cloak.
Its name is Valiance.
On the outskirts of the city of Hillwood, the target of this vengeance makes its way to the city itself; fresh off a prison break and fully intent to make his way to his intended destination. This target is a crime boss of the name of 'Little' Nicky Russotti, one of the most dangerous men to walk the Earth.
Not only a few hours ago, he had escaped from a highly-guarded and tightly secured prison complex with only a handful of armed men, and tore through a set of security guards with his bare hands for mere exercise. He could have easily walked out with no one knowing if he wished, but he was intent to make his return known.
Now, in the backseat of one of the cars of his motorcade, 'Little' Nicky chooses to simply sit back and enjoy the time as it passes; finishing the last few puffs of his cigar. Along his side is his loyal and (mostly) faithful right-hand man, an individual simply known as Weston.
"You know, Weston, it's been a while since I saw the open field like this. I never really stopped to look, but it's really a nice switch to see from just a cell... or even a city, for that matter." 'Little' Nicky said.
"Happy to be out at last, sir?" Weston asked.
"No, it's not just that. I'm starting to realize something. All that metal, all that concrete, keeping everything wound up as tight as it was in there... it's not too different from the city. Nobody ever really stops to look around anymore. They're too busy looking for the next thing to focus on that they never stop to focus on what's in front of them."
"You sound regretful, sir."
With the next release of his cigar smoke, 'Little' Nicky let out a heavy sigh, contemplating on his answer for his subordinate's comment.
"Maybe a little... but I still had some very proud moments." 'Little' Nicky said.
"Like what, sir?" Weston asked.
"Like when I first became a father. That was undoubtedly one of the best days of my life... but also one of my worst."
Many years ago in the life of 'Little' Nicky Russotti, his mind goes back to a period where most in his life began to change drastically. His mind is brought to the delivery room of Hillwood General Hospital, when his son is due to arrive to the Earth. His developmental steps in the womb are complete, and it is time for the child to come.
Bellissa Lombardi Russotti has carried the boy for 9 months, and her womb can no longer hold the baby as it has grown inside her. Now, she lies on a hospital bed, her legs apart, dressed in a gown, surrounded by various doctors and nurses, doing everything she can to deliver the child.
She pushes and pushes to bring her son to the Earth. Her body is in agony; feeling as if she is dying from this torture she is being put through. Just as death, the end of life, is a painful process, then it seems only fitting that birth, the beginning of life, be just as painful. Fitting, yes, but not quite fair to Bellissa.
She pushes and pushes to bring her son to the Earth. Her mind is under just as much pain as her body, and she tries to look to her other senses to find some escape from the suffering. Instead, her form of escape is blocked by the shouts and coaching of the doctors, seeing that this delivery continues on course correctly.
She pushes and pushes to bring her son to the Earth. She is of two minds in this moment: First and foremost, and the most human of these thoughts, is a strong desire for this pain to end at last. The other thought, and the one just as human, is that she wants her son to finally make his arrival on Earth, and this drives her to continue.
She pushes and pushes to bring her son to the Earth, and, now, he is here.
Arriving to the world crying and covered in blood and amniotic fluid, the boy is born at last, and brought to the arms of Bellissa; cradled softly against the body he had been gestated and developed in. He is wrapped in a blanket by the nurses, kept warm against the cold and sterile room, and is looked upon by the loving eyes of his mother and father.
Despite her body barely having any breath left in it, Bellissa finds the strength to praise their child as he has arrived.
"He's beautiful, Nicky... He's so beautiful..." Bellissa said.
"He is. He's the most beautiful baby boy I've ever seen." 'Little' Nicky said.
"To think... We made that... You and me... He looks so precious..."
"Still need a name, though. Got any ideas?"
"I was thinking... Gino..."
"Gino, huh? 'Big' Gino... I think I like that."
Likewise, just as 'Little' Nicky was contemplating on his past during his drive, Valiance thought along his own in the midst of his pursuit. 'Little' Nicky is a man who is driven by his past; constantly chased by demons that push him further on in his own life towards a goal.
Valiance is much of the same. He is haunted by the violated image of his daughter, and pushed to ensure that no other child will suffer the same fate that his own has, nor any parent of said child being relentlessly haunted just as he now is, or forced to extreme measures in revenge.
However, Valiance is certainly no angel; not even an angel of death, in his case. He was no prime example of a parent; his values were much strayed in favor of money and power. With this money and power came greed, and with this greed came the loss of empathy and parental duties.
Somewhere in the past, the mind of Valiance goes to a point where he was once known as Buckley Lloyd, a highly successful stockbroker on the up-and-up in career. He relaxes in an office chair, conversing with his secretary on whatever shares that he wants to buy up or sell.
"That's right, I want about 20,000 shares of Good Burger. They're proving to be a good competitor to Nasty Burger. Yes, keep everything else. Okay, thank you, I've got to go, Clinton's on line 2 asking for re-election funds." Buckley said.
Hanging up the phone with his secretary, Buckley switched his conversation to the president, answering his concerns about re-election.
"Hi, Bill, how's it been? Oh, that Monica I hear on the other line? Should I call back? Ha, of course. Let's just hope that it doesn't hurt you down the line. What-? Hold on a second." Buckley said.
In the midst of his conversation, Buckley felt a tugging at his pants, driving him to look down to see what was causing this strange motion. To his surprise, the cause of this tugging was caused from Rhonda, his toddler-aged daughter, looking for some attention from her father.
"Daddy." Rhonda mumbled.
"Oh, uh, one second, Bill, I've got a beautiful girl under my desk. No, not like that, it's my baby daughter. Hang on a minute." Buckley said.
Setting the phone down and picking up his daughter, Buckley gave Rhonda a few light jostles in the air, giving her enough excitement to calm her down for a moment. Stepping away from his desk, Buckley sat Rhonda inside a crib, pulling the bars around it up to ensure that she stayed put.
"There you go, thought I had you safe and sound in there. You just stay put while daddy works." Buckley said.
"Daddy." Rhonda mumbled.
Seating himself back at his desk, Buckley continued his conversation with the president, seeking to find new ways to increase his own wealth.
"Sorry about that, Bill. Now, I hear you were looking into balancing the budget next term, how do you feel about making a few tax cuts?" Buckley asked.
As Buckley debated on some requirements on his contributions to the president's re-election campaign, Rhonda was left alone in her crib, not receiving any of the attention she sought after from her father. Though this opportunity passed her, another one came by with her mother, giving her a chance to play with her instead.
"Mommy." Rhonda mumbled.
"Yes, I'd like to get the ultimate spa package. Oh, honey, you better believe I need it. You outta see the things I have to put up with from Buckley sometimes, the way he insists on doing things his way. Ooh, speaking of which, give me a second. Buckley, dear? I'm planning a trip to the spa. You think maybe we should buy the place for cheaper trips?" Brooke asked.
Once again, Rhonda was left without any real attention from her parents. Instead, the toddler was left without any sort of stimuli to keep her young mind busy.
"Oh, I almost forgot. Here you go, Rhonda, gift from London." Brooke said.
Remembering her other task to complete, Brooke left a teddy bear in the crib with Rhonda, gifting the young girl a toy. Her motion was not particularly the most caring or loving, merely placing the bear in her crib and walking away with no real thought, but the physical presence of the toy still left some impact.
The bear did not suffice for the need of parental love, but the material value of the toy still gave Rhonda some of what she needed; hugging the bear tightly.
Back into another past, in the life of 'Little' Nicky...
Like the Lloyds, the Russottis also live in wealth, and do not spare on their share of luxuries and the fat of the land. Though the means of their acquisition of wealth may or may not be too far dissimilar in morals from what the Lloyds do, there is no doubt that what they do is undoubtedly different in terms of legality.
The Lloyds gain their wealth through stocks and market manipulation, but the Russottis make their wealth through the means of drugs, weapons, prostitution, violence, and whatever other means at the expense of those at the bottom of society. Their only goal is wealth, and they, too, are fueled by greed.
One particular member of this sect of the mob has let his greed drive him too far, and it has landed him in the hands of the enforcers of the family. Sitting in the open field of the Russotti's Manor's backyard, this man, a young individual named Frankie, is secured to a cheap chair with duct tape, with many men surrounding him holding various hardware tools.
"So, Frankie, you wanna talk to us about it?" One enforcer asked.
"What's there to talk about, man? I don't know what the hell you guys are talking about!" Frankie said.
"Cut the crap, Frankie. We know you stole the cash. What, you think we wouldn't find you out? What were you planning, a little getaway with some ladyfriend, something where the two of youse think you can live happily-ever-goddamn-after?" Another enforcer asked.
"I didn't take the goddamn cash! I told you, I don't know what happened to it, but I looked everywhere for it! I think somebody else nabbed it!"
"Frankie..." One voice said.
Stepping in the crowd of enforcers, the voice belonging to the massive mafioso already made his identity and presence well known to Frankie, but his physical presence all made the true implications of his arrival come to light. Walking up to the secured Frankie, 'Little' Nicky veered down on the secured traitor, taking a sip of champagne as he looked upon him.
"I know for a fact you're lying to me, and I know for a fact that you stole the cash, and I know you're lying to me, but I'm not gonna do that. You're gonna die, that's a fact. You're not walking out of here alive, that's a fact. There's nothing that's gonna be left of you after for anyone to find or mourn over, that's a fact. All that I want is for you to tell me the truth from your own mouth. What you say can mean a quick death, or a slow one. Now's your one chance." 'Little' Nicky said.
The trick to getting a hardened mafia soldier to talk about anything that he does not wish to talk about is a difficult art; one that the police cannot master, and very few else can get right. Anything that a soldier does not want to say, you cannot get him to say it easily. However, for 'Little' Nicky, he has one advantage that makes this art far too easy:
Being 'Little' Nicky.
"Okay, okay, boss, I took the cash, alright? I wanted to get out of town with my girlfriend and get out of this shit! I can't take this anymore!" Frankie said.
"Well, no need to worry about that anymore, because you won't be in 'this shit' ever again." 'Little' Nicky said.
'Little' Nicky picked up a hammer out of collection of tools that his enforcers possessed, the massive mafioso prepared to ram the hook end of it into the skull of Frankie, planning to end his life and treachary all at once. Before able to do so, however, he soon found a voice and grip around his leg prevent him from doing so.
"Daddy!" A voice called.
Hearing the young voice call out to him and grip around his leg, 'Little' Nicky stopped in his tracks to see his son, 'Big' Gino, grabbing at him in a hugging motion. Quickly tossing the hammer away and hiding any signs of violence that occurred, 'Little' Nicky picked Gino up off the ground, changing his violent display to a loving and embracing one.
"Hey, 'Big' Gino, how's daddy's big boy?" 'Little' Nicky asked.
"I'm fine, daddy, I wanted to see you." 'Big' Gino said.
Catching up to the young 'Big' Gino, a young woman, Gino's caretaker, began rushing to 'Little' Nicky, apologizing profusely for her own mistake.
"Oh, god, Mr. Russotti, I'm so sorry, I didn't know he ran off, I should've-" The caretaker began to say.
"Hey, hey, hey, forget about it. My big boy wanted to see me, that's fine. I always got time for my 'Big' Gino." 'Little' Nicky said.
"Daddy, who's that man taped to the chair?" 'Big' Gino asked.
"Well, Gino, this gentleman here is named Frankie. He's taped to the chair because he did a very bad thing and he needs to be punished for it. How about we take you back inside? I don't want you seeing what kind of punishment he gets. Pauline, why don't you take the rest of the day off? I've got Gino from here."
"Oh, thank you, Mr. Russotti." The caretaker said.
"Don't mention it. Now, Gino, say bye-bye to Mr. Frankie."
"Bye-bye, Mr. Frankie." 'Big' Gino said.
Taking 'Big' Gino into his arms and heading back inside the house, 'Little' Nicky left the enforcers to finish the job on their own, much to the dismay of Frankie as he laid secured. Giving no more thought to the job, 'Little' Nicky instead put his attention on his son, giving him all the time in the world he desired.
"So, 'Big' Gino, what's on our agenda for today?" 'Little' Nicky asked.
"Blarney the Dinosaur's on and I wanted you to watch it with me." 'Big' Gino said.
"Blarney the Dinosaur, huh? And what's it about?"
"It's about this big, green, Irish dinosaur and he sings and plays with his friends."
"An Irish dinosaur, huh? This sounds interesting."
"Don't you have some Irish friends, daddy?"
"Not quite 'friends' in my line of work, 'Big' Gino, but that's not important. Let's go see your show."
Letting himself be led to the living room by his son, 'Little' Nicky sat on the floor beside his son, watching the aforementioned show with his only child. Though no one would find the idea of a man singing in an Irish accent in a green dinosaur costume to be particularly quality entertainment, it was what his son enjoyed, which was all he needed to enjoy it as well.
The two let the show play on for a while, going through a few musical numbers and conclude its primary plot, but the main focus soon began to shift to something different than a simple children's show. Contemplating on something different that was dwelling on his mind, 'Big' Gino asked his father a particularly uncomfortable question.
"Daddy, when is mommy coming home?" 'Big' Gino asked.
Not quite ready to answer the question, 'Little' Nicky let out a large sigh in readiness, trying to muster the strength to answer his son's question while keeping his own sorrows back.
"Son... listen, we've been over this. Mommy's not ever coming home. Mommy's gone. It's just you and me now." 'Little' Nicky said.
"Are you not going to come home soon one day either, daddy?" 'Big' Gino asked.
"Oh, no, son, I'm never going anywhere. I'll always be here for you."
Not wanting his son to feel any discomforting thoughts such as the idea of his father never returning again, 'Little' Nicky grapsed his son in a hug, brushing away all thoughts in his mind regarding the fear of being without a father just as he was now without a mother.
The hug works well, and 'Big' Gino no longer harbors that fear.
Author's note: The next portion of this chapter contains a written adaptation of the beginning of the episode 'Polishing Rhonda'; Season 4, Episode 70B. The original plot and dialogue is written by Michelle Lamoreaux and was directed by Tim Parsons and Christine Kolosov. No copyright infringement is intended and all credit to the original writers where it is due.
Back into another past, in the life of Valiance...
Despite their loose sense of family by way of their wealth and jobs and school keeping them separate, the Lloyds always did make it a point to have a nice dinner together as a family. Tonight, they feast upon a selection of chicken, beans, and peas, freshly prepared by some of the best chefs they can buy.
Rhonda, however, is not so eager to dig into her food. With too much on her mind, she simply pokes around at and tosses around the beans, contemplating her own problems. She is stuck with the task of graduating the Young Sophisticate After-School Polishing Academy for Boys and Girls, but her poor social skills, brought upon by her spoiled and superior attitude, have doomed her to fail.
Her parents, distant in their own work as they may be, are not impartial to the events in her life. Curious about her progress, they inquire into her affairs, hoping for the best answer to be given.
"So, how are things at the academy, dear?" Brooke asked.
"Huh? The academy? Oh, uh, great. Things are going just great. In fact, I'm probably going to graduate first in my class." Rhonda lied.
"Well, that is just fantabulous, honey. Today, the Young Sophisticate After-School Polishing Academy for Boys and Girls. Tomorrow, Princeton." Buckley said.
Buckley and Brooke raised their glasses in celebration of their perception of their daughter's victory, but Rhonda was not so comfortable with her father's predictions. To hide her own nervousness towards the comment, she simply faked a laugh, playing along with their hopes.
"Ha-ha, Princeton, yeah." Rhonda said.
Realizing that she could not comfortably keep up this lie to her parents' faces any longer, Rhonda began to excuse herself from the table, leaving her food remaining lying on her plate, uneaten. To justify her absence, Rhonda feigned an illness, allowing herself to go bed.
"Uh, Mommy, Daddy, I'm not feeling so well. May I please be excused?" Rhonda asked.
"Oh, of course, honey, you go lie down and get better." Brooke said.
"Thanks."
Rhonda left the table at last, leaving herself to face her own shortcomings alone and out of the viewing eyes of her parents, hoping that some solitude would alleviate her own failures. As she left, Brooke began to observe her strange reaction, drawing different conclusions from her actions.
"Buckley, dear? Don't you think that was strange?" Brooke asked.
"Hmm?" Buckley asked.
"She seemed to get awfully nervous when we asked her about her progress in class, didn't she?"
"She seemed alright to me. Probably just under a lot of pressure for finals. You know how hard she works."
"Hmm... I guess you're right. It's probably nothing."
Although there were more problems than the two had perceived, these issues with Rhonda did not undergo any further investigation by the parents. Instead, they simply returned to their meals, blindly trusting that all was well with their daughter without truly making sure.
Back into another past, in the life of 'Little' Nicky...
The career of 'Little' Nicky has gone far and has made a deep impact onto Hillwood; leading to a significant increase in crime and seriously strengthening those involved in such illegal activities. 'Little' Nicky seemed to be untouchable; beyond reproach and nearly impossible to get behind bars.
Nearly impossible, but not fully. Even a man as careful as 'Little' Nicky is not untouchable by the law, and he has eventually found his day in court. With enough evidence in front of him, a prison sentence was unavoidable at this point, and surely to keep him out of society any longer.
He still remains a grip upon Hillwood, but not nearly as tight a grip on the relationship with his son. Said child, the preteen known as 'Big' Gino, made much of the same efforts to maintain a good relationship with his father. One such effort is his visit to the Hillwood Maximum Security Penitentiary, paying a visit to his father.
Taking a seat and picking up a phone, 'Big' Gino looked through a sheet of glass back at his father, watching him pick up a phone on his end to communicate.
"Hey, dad." 'Big' Gino said.
"Hey, 'Big' Gino, how's it going, kiddo?" 'Little' Nicky asked.
"Doin' good, I guess. Still going to school and all at P.S. 118. I play this game called The King Rules with some other kids. I'm pretty good at it."
"That's good, that's good, son. I want you to keep goin' to school and get yourself smart. I never had any real education when I was your age, and I had to do everything the hard way to get where I was."
"Dad, you're in prison."
"All the more reason I want you smarter; so they can't get to ya. You're a bright boy, Gino, you're my big boy, now you really got to be that big boy for me."
"I can't, dad. I don't have your magic. I mean, look at me. You call me 'Big' Gino, but I'm just a midget compared to you."
"That don't matter, Gino. You're still a smart boy, you can think things through better than me. You're young and full of energy."
"But it's not the same around home without you. Why can't you just blow this joint and come home?"
"No, no, son, I can't do that. I can't put you in danger like that. I stay here, you're all good. I break out, you're gonna be hounded on by the Feds every step of the way. I'm doing this for you."
Taking a deep sigh, 'Little' Nicky tried to think of a way to satisfy his son's need for him at home, before soon setting on an idea.
"Tell you what. How old are you now, Gino?" 'Little' Nicky asked.
"13." 'Big' Gino answered.
"13, huh? Hot damn, you're on your way to becoming a man now. Tell you what..."
'Little' Nicky reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigars, holding 2 in the container.
"Montecriscos. Best Cubans on the market. When you turn 21, I'm gonna find a way out of here, you and I are gonna smoke these down to the butt, and you and I are gonna kick some butts out there in the streets together. We'll take the town ourselves. You feel me?" 'Little' Nicky asked.
Though it was not particularly easy to say a goodbye to his father and place such trust in him when he would not see him again for some of the most important years of his life, 'Big' Gino ultimately found himself nodding in acceptance, but with tears beginning to fall from his eyes.
"Hey, hey, don't go cryin' on me. You're 'Big' Gino. Ain't nobody can touch you. Now, you take care of yourself, alright?" 'Little' Nicky said.
"Okay. I love you, dad." 'Big' Gino said.
"I love you, son."
Many years have passed since that last conversation had taken place; in between that time and now filled with 'Little' Nicky keeping himself in shape in prison, and 'Big' Gino tending to himself on his own, with both taking their control over the crime family in their own ways. The time has long since passed for others, but it has not passed so easily for 'Little' Nicky.
After many hours of driving, the motorcade of vehicles makes its arrival at its intended destination, stopping at Hillwood Gardens Cemetery. Taking a stop just outside the gates, 'Little' Nicky exited his vehicle with a boquet of flowers in hand, Weston at his right side, and two armed guards accompanying him.
With his boquet in hand, 'Little' Nicky made his way through the cemetery, leaving Weston to act as his guide. Following a short walk through the fields of the resting place of the dead, 'Little' Nicky finds the one and only grave he seeks to find; the one that he had made his entire mission on this day:
The grave of 'Big' Gino Russotti, shared by his mother, Bellissa Lombardi Russotti.
Stepping up to the grave, 'Little' Nicky kneeled down to leave his flowers, giving a sign of respect to both his son and wife. Wanting to share a solitary conversation with his son, 'Little' Nicky dismissed Weston and the guards, seeking a moment to be alone to mourn his son.
"Leave me." 'Little' Nicky said.
Following his orders, Weston and the guards all stepped back; keeping 'Little' Nicky in their sights, but not intruding on his conversation. Making his official start, 'Little' Nicky pulled out his cigars, the two Montecriscos still in his pocket, and lit them both; setting one in his mouth and one atop the gravestone of 'Big' Gino.
"Happy birthday, son. All the way up to 21, huh? You're gettin' to be a big boy on me. You sure would've been pretty strong around this time, maybe stronger than your old man. I bet you woulda had a nice girlfriend at this point, maybe a wife and a kid. I sure woulda liked to see a little 'Big' Gino running around." 'Little' Nicky said.
'Little' Nicky spoke with a light-hearted voice in his tone, as if happy to see his son once again, but his inner feelings knew that this was not the case, and led him to drive his monologue into more depressing territory.
"Y-You... You did a damn good job of everything, son. I couldn't have asked for a better successor. You were great. I've had some real good soldiers in the business, but none of them ever came close to you. A kid your age running this shit? Unheard of. But you did it all on your own." 'Little' Nicky said.
At this point, his true emotions could not be held back any longer, any more than he could hold back the tears that he had for his one and only son. Mourning the loss of his son further, his voice began to tremble and break under his own words.
"You were... You were the only real family I had left, Gino. I always taught myself to be my own man, to be a one-man army, to be the best goddamn killer out there, but... Seeing you as a baby, it just... I couldn't just see things that simple no more... To think that a piece of shit like me could make somebody as beautiful as you, I just... Oh, god..." 'Little' Nicky cried.
Throwing his arms around the gravestone, 'Little' Nicky began to weep over the very rock that stood over the body of his son, pretending so hard and so deeply that the rock was his living, breathing son. His imagination only took him so far into that fantasy, and it was simply not enough to bring his son back to life.
On the outside of the display, lurking in the shadows of the cemetery, the united Hillwood Heroes witnessed the event, with none so comfortable to view the sight of the weeping gangster. None were in denial of the past of 'Little' Nicky or his deeds, but there eyes drove their minds to further moral confusion.
All were in question of their own senses of right and wrong in this display of emotion, but none were so far in conflict as Valiance. For a man dedicated to eliminating crime from the city forever, how could a man like him even hope to process a sight like one of the most dangerous and infamous crime bosses responisble for so much of the damage he had tried to erase crying over his son's grave?
In search of an answer, they look to the Green Eye for an answer.
"Eyeman, what do we do?" G-Funk whispered.
Before the Green Eye could give an answer here, Valiance makes it for the group already, but his decision is not far off from the Green Eye's judgement.
"We do nothing." Valiance said.
"Huh?" The group asked.
"We leave him alone. We'll be kind and give him a day's head-start."
"V, are you nuts? Eyeman, you wanna help us out here?" G-Funk asked.
The Green Eye had his own moral stance to influence his decision, but he also looks upon Valiance's reasoning; surprised that a man such as him would give such an order. Upon seeing the internal connection he had made with 'Little' Nicky's plight and his own personal loss, the reason became all the more obvious than anyone could see.
"You heard him. We leave him. We'll come back to him first thing tomorrow." The Green Eye said.
"Arnold, you can't be-" G-Funk began to say.
"I mean it. We leave now. That's final."
No one within the Hillwood Heroes could honestly fully endorse such a decision to be made from the Green Eye, much less even hope to understand it, but, trusting him as they did, the Heroes found themselves complying nonetheless; leaving the cemetery as ordered. After all, with a situation like this, they were not bound to find any comfortable answer.
As the Hillwood Heroes left, unnoticed by the visitors of this grave as unnoticed when they arrived, 'Little' Nicky's sobbing finally came to its natural end. The massive mafioso, brought to his knees by his own very heart, began to take in some deep breaths to allow his mind to recover at last from this moment.
Bringing his visit to his son to its conclusion, 'Little' Nicky laid a kiss upon the gravestone of his son, bidding one last goodbye.
"I love you, son. You'll always be my big boy. You'll always be my 'Big' Gino." 'Little' Nicky said.