The final chapter of part one! It all comes to a head with Fugo's situation. I will be taking a week off posting before the second part starts, so keep an eye out for that.

warning: this chapter contains attempted sexual assault. If you don't want to read that, then just skip to the first chapter break.

Chapter Five

Fugo stared at the paper in front of him. A B-. He hadn't gotten a grade that low in…forever.

Obviously, he knew it was a passing grade, but it would raise too many questions with his parents. It was so stupid. He should have been able to do the test in his sleep, but he couldn't concentrate on anything, feeling Pisani's eyes on him the entire time. He just wished the man would leave him alone. He didn't treat any of the other students like that. Why was it just Fugo?

Resignedly, he gathered his papers and books up as the class ended but before he could make his escape, Signore Pisani stopped him.

"Fugo, stay here for a minute," he said.

Fugo glanced at Bruno and Leone's backs as they left the room, not noticing he was still here, and swallowed hard when the rest of the students filed out, the door closing behind them, leaving Fugo alone.

"About the test," Pisani said slowly as he took a seat on the edge of his desk, facing Fugo. "I'll admit I was a bit shocked. I had to look twice to make sure it was actually yours."

"I know, and I'll do better next time," Fugo said shortly.

Pisani folded his arms over his chest. "Am I working you too hard, my boy?"

Fugo bristled. "No, I've just been…distracted lately."

Pisani chuckled. "Perhaps I have too." He sighed and pressed his hands together. "Listen, Fugo, I know this isn't you. You are a brilliant boy, and this was a one-off. I'm willing to change the grade and no one has to know. All I ask is that you…" He glanced toward the door briefly before his eyes were right back on Fugo. "…Do something for me." His tongue slipped out of his mouth briefly, wetting his lips.

Fugo felt nausea crawl up his throat as he was pinned with those intense eyes again like a sparrow being stalked by a cat.

"It's fine, it was my fault anyway," he said quickly, stepping away. "I have to get to my next class—"

Pisani's hand clenched around his wrist and effectively held him in place. Fugo struggled as the man reeled him in, crowding him toward the wall. "Now, don't be hasty, Pannacotta. You really don't want your parents finding out about this, do you?"

"Let go of me!" Fugo snapped, panicking as his back hit the wall.

"It's only a small favor, my boy," Pisani said, leaning in too close, suffocating Fugo with his cologne. "I just want to touch you. You know how long I've wanted to do that? You have no idea how hard it was for me, you acting like such a little tease every day; all that pale skin and those delicate features..."

"Get off!" Fugo screamed as the disgusting man completely trapped him against the wall, one hand creeping down Fugo's chest, fingers crawling under his shirt as Fugo tried to get away. "Get the fuck off me!"

"Scream all you want, who will believe you when you tell them?" Pisani asked with a smile. "Unless you want everyone to know that you let me do this to you. It would be best to just go along with this, don't you think? Easier for both of us."

Fugo's eyes filled with furious tears. One slid down his cheek as Pisani roughly grabbed his chin. The bastard looked like he was practically salivating.

"So beautiful," he crooned, wiping the tear away with a thumb. "So, Pannacotta, shall we fix that nasty little grade now?"

Bruno was exchanging text books from his locker when he heard Leone swear.

"Shit, I think I left my notebook in the history classroom. It has my science notes in it," he sighed.

"Well, it's on the way to the lab if we take the other rout, we shouldn't be too late if we stop to grab it," Bruno said.

They hurried back down the hallway toward the class they had just left. As they neared the door though, Bruno could hear muffled sounds and then something heavy falling inside.

"The hell?" Leone muttered, pushing open the door.

Neither of them were expecting the sight that greeted them.

Signore Pisani was struggling with Fugo, slamming him against the wall as Fugo fought, unable to do much against the bigger and stronger man though.

"Holy shit," Leone breathed before he seemed to kick himself into gear. "Get the fuck off him!"

He surged forward, grabbing Pisani by the back of the collar, hauling him backward as Bruno made a grab for Fugo, trying to pry his wrists out of the man's grip.

"The little bastard attacked me!" Pisani cried out, putting a hand over several scratch marks on one cheek. "He said I gave him a bad grade on purpose!"

"You fucking liar!" Fugo snarled, face red with fury. He tried to surge forward, but Bruno held him back and Leone inserted himself between Fugo and the teacher. Bruno could clearly see that Fugo's shirt had half been torn off, and there were wicked bruises already forming on his wrists.

"You're staying here until we get someone to figure this out!" Leone told Pisani before turning to Bruno. "Bruno?"

Bruno nodded, starting to pull Fugo with him toward the door. "Come on."

"What, are you going to go cry to Signore Polpo about this?" Pisani demanded. "You think he'll believe you?"

"Who do you think he's going to believe, you fucking pervert?" Leone demanded. "Everyone knows Fugo doesn't worry about grades!"

Pisani chuckled, obviously deranged. "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. Everyone knows Fugo here has anger issues. What if he simply attacked me?"

"You bastard," Fugo said shakily, pulling out of Bruno's grip.

"Forget him, Fugo, just go," Leone said calmly, his eyes still on the teacher standing there, panting.

"Oh, you're not going anywhere until we agree on a story. We wouldn't want anyone getting the wrong idea, now would we?" Pisani said, pushing Leone aside and reaching out.

It was his mistake.

"I told you not to fucking touch me!" Fugo snarled and grabbed for the first thing he could reach on the desk—a heavy book—and swung.

It hit Pisani right in the jaw, knocking him back, but Fugo kept going, slamming it into the man's head again as he staggered.

"Fugo!" Leone and Bruno both shouted, surging forward. Fugo hit the man one more time and Pisani slumped to the ground as Bruno and Leone both grabbed Fugo, pulling him back.

"No! I'll kill him! I'll kill him!"

"Fugo," Leone gritted out and he fought to hold on while Fugo strained against their grasp. Bruno extricated the book from his hands and threw it on the floor. Blood painted the cover.

"I got him, go to the office," Leone said, gritting his teeth as Fugo's head hit his chin. "Come on, Panna. Breathe. I can't let you go until you calm down."

Bruno raced toward the office, heart pounding in his throat.

Everything was a blur after that. By the time he got back to the room with Signore Polpo and several of the other staff members, Fugo was simply sitting on the ground like a puppet with cut strings. Leone's arms were still around him but Fugo wasn't trying to get away any more. He just stared at the unconscious teacher on the floor. Bruno knelt to join them, placing a careful hand on Fugo's shoulder, but the other boy didn't react.

The police were called, and Pisani was taken out by paramedics, only barely conscious. After that all of them were ushered into the office to wait for the police.

Fugo was taken to another room and Leone and Bruno were left to give their statements under Polpo's watchful eye when the police arrived.

Once that was done, they were dismissed to the waiting room to wait for their parents to get there. They had already seen Fugo's parents arrive, absolutely sour expressions on their faces as if they would rather be anywhere else. Not at all worried about their son.

Bruno clasped his hands between his knees, feeling numb.

"I didn't think…" he started, then stopped. What could he even say about any of this?

Leone ran a hand through his hair that was slightly mussed from the struggle. "I know," was all he said. "I mean…fuck, Bruno."

They sat there on the uncomfortable bench while Polpo's secretary worked quietly at her desk, glancing up with a stern look when Leone cursed. Bruno leaned over, lowering his voice.

"What do we tell the others? Do you think Panna—?"

"They're gonna find out eventually, it's gonna be all over the school by tomorrow," Leone said grimly. We can call them later when they're home."

Bruno nodded, then looked up as the door opened and his father and Leone's parents stepped into the office.

The secretary got up and greeted them before she knocked on Polpo's office door.

Bruno's father moved toward the bench to stand beside him, a hand firmly pressed into his shoulder. Leone rolled his eyes at his parent's wary, slightly disapproving looks.

"What exactly is going on here?" Signore Abbacchio demanded as Polpo and one of the officers came out to explain the situation.

"Neither of your sons are in any trouble," the officer assured the parents. "They've given their statements and you can take them home now if you can give me a number to call if we need more information."

Information was exchanged and then Bruno and Leone hurried to retrieve their backpacks, leaving a note on Mista's locker that they'd call him later and hurried out.

"I can drive home myself," Leone muttered to his parents. "I'm not leaving my car here."

His father's face was tight. "There should be a lawsuit against this school for their hiring practices. I can't believe they let someone like that work here for this long."

"Sometimes people like that have the tendency to slip through the cracks," Paolo said grimly, a hard look on his face.

Signore Abbacchio turned to shake his hand. "I'll keep you up to date."

Paolo nodded and waited for Bruno to agree on a time to call Leone before they headed to his small old truck that usually only went between the docks and the market.

"I'm sorry, Papa," Bruno felt the need to say.

Paolo looked at him incredulously as he unlocked the car. "There's nothing to be sorry about, Bruno. You're not in any trouble. In fact, I'm proud of you. You defended your friend."

Bruno glanced back at the school. He still hadn't seen Fugo since he disappeared with his parents and the police officers. "I just wish it hadn't gotten that far," he admitted.

Paolo sighed and started the car as Bruno climbed in and closed the creaky door behind him. He realized belatedly that he had left his bicycle, but it was locked up and he could catch a ride with Leone in the morning. None of that seemed important right now anyway.

"What do you think will happen to Panna?" he asked out loud.

"It was self-defense," his father said firmly. "But I can call Abbacchio later to ask him. I'm sure he knows people who'll have information about the case."

Bruno nodded, but that wasn't exactly what he'd meant. He was more worried about how Fugo was going to handle it. About how everyone was going to react when they found out. And on top of that, Bruno felt awful for not trying harder to figure out what was going on with Fugo, for not seeing what was, in retrospect, completely clear.

"I'm so stupid," he whispered.

His father turned to stare at him as they were stopped at a light. "You're not," he said firmly.

"Then why didn't I do anything before?" Bruno asked, throat tight, eyes pricking.

"We can't always have that foresight," Paolo told him quietly. "But we can pick up the pieces."

Bruno scrubbed at his eyes as his father's warm, calloused hand briefly cupped his cheek.

"Fugo's lucky to have a friend like you. He knows you'll be there for him. Sometimes that's enough."

Bruno nodded shakily and tried to let that make him feel better.

Later that afternoon, he and Leone got on a 3-way call with Mista and then Narancia to explain what happened. They still didn't have Giorno's or Trish's numbers so they'd have to wait to tell them in the morning.

Both Narancia and Mista were furious that they hadn't been there to kick Pisani's ass. Unfortunately, none of them had any more information on Fugo, though Abbacchio had found out from his parents that Pisani had gotten away with a concussion, which Narancia pointed out was too good for him.

Bruno wanted to call Fugo, but decided that it might be better to give him his space. At least for now. Even if Fugo didn't want to talk, Bruno at least wanted him to know the option was there.

He didn't really sleep that night and therefor was groggy in the morning when Leone came to pick him up.

His friend's hands were tight on the steering wheel as he drove them to school.

"My dad knows people at the police station so he asked about the investigation," he said darkly. "Long story short, that fucking bastard is going away for a long time."

"So they believed Fugo?" Bruno asked, feeling some relief.

Leone nodded. "They were at the guy's house, found a ton of pictures and shit. Of kids. Bastard didn't even try to hide it that well." His hands tightened even further. "There were pictures of Fugo too. I guess he probably sneaked some while he wasn't looking."

Bruno shook his head, stomach churning with disgust.

"God, I wish I'd kicked the bastard's balls in when I had the chance," Leone growled.

Bruno couldn't disagree with the sentiment. "At least he's going to jail."

Leone snorted. "Yeah, sure. But the damage has already been done, hasn't it?"

Bruno didn't reply to that, curling his hands into fists around the straps of his backpack while he held it between his knees.

When they got to school, they found Mista, Narancia, Giorno and Trish, as well as Risotto and Prosciutto's gang hanging around the parking lot.

Trish turned to Bruno with her arms folded over her chest. "They wouldn't say anything until you got here, so what the hell happened to Fugo?" she demanded.

"Yeah, all we saw was the police here yesterday," Formaggio said. "But they wouldn't tell us anything."

Bruno took a deep breath and told the story again.

"You're shitting me," Risotto demanded, furious.

"I wish," Leone said.

"Oh god, I can't even…" Trish covered her mouth with a hand. Giorno didn't say anything but his arms were pressed tightly to his chest and Bruno was pretty sure he saw actual anger in his eyes.

"Look, I doubt he'll be at school today, but when he comes back, just don't mention it to him, all right?" Mista asked the others.

"Of course not," Prosciutto said. "But what about everyone else?"

"They'll find out eventually, if they haven't already," Melone said. "Rumors travel fast."

"We can't do anything about that," Bruno said. "But the gossip won't last forever either." He hoped.

It was worse than he thought, though. The news seemed to have spread like wildfire by the time lunch came around. It seemed like everyone was talking about it, most of them sending pointed looks toward Bruno and his friends but not having the courtesy to ask them the obviously pointed questions.

"I heard he egged Pisani on," one girl was saying as Bruno walked by. "I mean, you saw how much he always sucked up to him."

"Sucked up is right," her friend tittered.

"Maybe he was never that smart and just did favors to get the teachers to give him good grades."

"Hey, shut the fuck up," Leone snarled at the girls who gave him a blasé look before they turned back to each other.

Bruno swallowed down his anger, knowing it wouldn't do Fugo any good if they got into fights with the other students. It would just give them something else to hold over him when he got back.

If he came back. Bruno honestly wouldn't blame him if he switched schools after this.

He wasn't hungry for lunch, none of them were. Nor did they really feel like conversation.

"Hey," some jock came up to the table, smirking. "How's teacher's favorite pet?"

"Fuck off," Leone snapped.

"What are you gonna do about it, freak?" the jock taunted. "Come on, you know little genius was asking for it, right? How else do you think he skipped two years so easily?"

"You shut up!" Narancia snarled.

The jock snorted. "Fine, I just don't understand what you see in the little slu—"

"You take that back!" Narancia screamed, launching himself from the table with a fork in his hand.

"Narancia!" Mista was closest and hauled him back. Bruno and Leone stood as well. Bruno grabbed Narancia's other arm as Leone shoved the jock hard in the chest.

"Get the hell out of here before I break your face," the goth snarled.

The jock shoved him back but left, his friends sneering behind him. "Whatever. Enjoy your freak friends."

"Let me go!" Narancia snarled, still yanking against Bruno and Mista's grasp. "At least let me get one good hit in!"

"Come on, man, no!" Mista grunted, pulling him back.

"That's what he wants you to do anyway, it won't help Fugo," Giorno said simply.

"He's right," Bruno said. "We know what he said isn't true. So leave it."

Narancia finally jerked out of their grip and sat back down, still shaking with fury. "Where do they get off talking about him like that?"

Bruno took the seat next to him. "They don't really understand so they're treating it as a joke."

"Well, it's not!" Narancia snapped.

"We know that," Leone muttered. "But you can't beat that into their thick skulls so it's pointless to even try."

"They'll move onto something new in a week anyway," Trish told him.

Narancia finally settled but no one really ate any lunch.

"Should we try to call Fugo after school, you think?" Mista asked.

"I was going to," Bruno said.

"Let Bruno do it then, we don't want him to feel like he has to answer to all of us," Leone suggested.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

After school, Bruno finally picked up his bike and rode back home. He called Fugo on his mobile so his parents wouldn't pick up for him but was only able to leave a message. Sighing, he flopped down on the couch, unable to even care about doing his homework. It just seemed like there were a million things more important than school right now.

The phone rang a little later and he hurried to pick it up, but it was just Narancia.

"Hey, have you heard from Fugo yet?" he asked.

"No," Bruno said. "I tried calling a couple times, but I can't get through."

"Yeah, I tried too," Narancia said. "But he won't pick up. I'm worried about him, man."

"Me too," Bruno said.

"You think we should try to go over to his place tomorrow, just to check up on him?"

Bruno considered. He knew Fugo wouldn't like it, but remembered what his father had told him too. That Fugo should know that they were there for him.

"If we can't get ahold of him tonight then, yeah, I think maybe we should," he said.

"Okay. Let me know if you hear anything, all right?"

Bruno agreed and ended the call, glancing over at the clock.

His father was late getting home, so Bruno went to the kitchen to start dinner, wanting to keep busy. When Paolo got back from the docks, smelling of fish, he greeted Bruno tiredly and went to take a shower. Dinner was ready by the time he got out and Bruno set the table, dishing up the food.

"Thank you," Paolo told him.

Bruno shrugged. "It's no problem. I like to cook."

Paolo sighed. "I called Abbacchio about the case. I assume you probably know by now."

Bruno swallowed hard, and nodded. "Yeah."

They sat in silence for the rest of dinner and then Paolo offered to wash the dishes while Bruno tried to start on his homework.

He hadn't gotten very far before there was a knock on the door.

"I got it," Bruno told his father as he got up from the table and headed toward the door, grasping the doorknob and pulling it open.

Fugo stood on the other side, a large suitcase in one hand while the other hand grasped his opposite arm.

"Fugo," Bruno said in surprise.

"I'm sorry, but, I didn't know where else to go," Fugo said, voice shaking slightly.

Bruno pushed the door open further and took a step toward his friend. "What happened?"

Fugo gritted his teeth before his expression changed, completely emotionless. "My parents told me I was no longer welcome in their house," he said stiffly. "Is it all right if I…stay the night?"

As Bruno stood there in stunned silence, trying to process what Fugo had even said, his father stepped up behind him, wiping his hands on a towel. "You can stay as long as you like."

Fugo's shoulders collapsed in on themselves and Bruno hurried forward, grabbing his suitcase and ushering him inside.

"Come on, there's still some leftovers if you haven't eaten," Bruno told him.

"I'll go get the guest room set up," Paolo said quietly as he took the suitcase and headed toward the back of the house.

Fugo sat numbly at the kitchen table as Bruno pulled out the leftovers and heated them up.

"What happened, Panna?" he asked quietly as he sat across from him.

Fugo's mouth twisted. "They said I…embarrassed them. Because my name was on record now, and…the reason why…" His hands clenched. "I guess they decided that it was better to just throw me out and pretend I never existed than to actually care about what happened. Like it was my fault."

"It wasn't and your parents are shit for saying so."

Bruno looked up in surprise to see his father standing in the doorway, arms folded over his chest. Paolo never cursed, so Bruno knew how furious he must be.

"You stay as long as you need to, son," Paolo added.

Fugo's face crumpled slightly, but he pulled himself back together quickly, taking a shaking breath. "Th-thank you, Signore Bucciarati. I'll do what I can to pay you back."

Paolo shook his head. "That's really not necessary, but I appreciate the sentiment."

Fugo's hands shook as he picked up the fork, but slowly put it back down. "I'm sorry, I can't eat right now."

"It's fine," Bruno assured him. "It's here when you want it. Do you want me to show you the guest room?"

Fugo nodded jerkily and Bruno quickly led him to the back of the house and the room across from his own. His father had put fresh sheets on the bed and cleaned up some of the stuff they had stored in there.

"We'll fix it up better tomorrow," Bruno told him and reached into the hall closet. "Here's towels and stuff if you want to take a shower."

Fugo sank onto the bed and buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking as he let out a choked off sob.

"Pannacotta," Bruno said quietly, heart aching for his friend.

"I don't know what to do anymore," Fugo choked out. "I—I feel so… filthy." He spat the word angrily, hands scrubbing over his face. "I saw what was happening and I let him continue because I was too afraid to say anything. If you and Leone hadn't showed up…"

Bruno sat down next to him, making sure to give him enough room if he needed it. "Panna, I can't imagine how you feel right now, but all of us are just here to make sure you're okay."

"Well, I'm not!" Fugo snapped, fists clenching in his lap.

"And that's okay," Bruno assured him. "We don't expect you to be."

"This wasn't supposed to happen!" Fugo shouted, slamming a fist down on the mattress. "I did all this shit to please them and now it was all for nothing. What the fuck am I good for now? No one will ever look at me the same way again. They'll just think I—I wanted him to—to do that. Just like my fucking parents. I'm just a broken tool to them now."

"It doesn't matter what they think," Bruno insisted. "The world is against everyone, Panna, especially when you're growing up. Think about it. If they don't want you for who you really are, then what's the point? They only ever saw you as an asset to exploit, but you're more than just your brains, Panna, you always have been. You're one of my best friends, you're insanely loyal, and I value your opinions above pretty much anyone else's because I know you actually think about things. If your parents don't know any of that stuff about you then that's on them and they missed out."

Fugo scrubbed angrily at his eyes.

"Maybe this is a good thing. Think about it. You're free of their expectations now. You can actually do what you want," Bruno said. "You don't have to live your life by their rules and expectations now.

"I don't know what I want to do," Fugo confided, voice thick. "How do you…go back after something like this?"

"I don't know," Bruno replied honestly. "But we're not going to let you do it alone, okay?"

Fugo choked back another sob and slumped, turning to lean his forehead on Bruno's shoulder. Bruno carefully wrapped his arms around the younger boy as Fugo finally let out all the emotions he had been holding in for too long.

They were both so exhausted by the time Fugo's tears had run dry that eventually they fell asleep sideways on the bed, feet still dangling off the side. Paolo came in much later to pull a blanket over top of them and left them to sleep through the night. Perhaps the dawning of the day would bring new hope to all of them.