We're back with Part 2! This part is where we get deeper into Giorno's situation so buckle up for the ride, we've got more angst coming.

Warning: this part will contain more on-screen physical and verbal abuse and this chapter has some crass language at the end.

Part Two

Drifting Out With the Tide

(Title from "Safe and Sound" by Electric President)

Chapter Six

Giorno was settling into this new routine. In fact, maybe he was getting a little too used to it, if he were being honest. It was nice to be able to rely on the fact that he had friends to meet with every day at school. And yes, he had started to refer to the group as his friends. It might be against his better judgement, but so far, they'd done nothing but accept him and seem to genuinely enjoy his company and it made him feel lighter and happier to be around them. It was nice to know he had someone to ask for help on homework if he needed it, and as a result, his grades had actually gone up. He was proud of himself, even if his parents could care less.

That day at lunch, Narancia brought up the project they were doing for English class that Giorno was, admittedly, dreading a little.

"It's a translation project," Narancia moaned.

"You have Illuso as your partner though," Melone pointed out to him from across the table. "He's actually really good at English. I, on the other hand, am doomed." He put a dramatic hand over his forehead.

"Don't write me off that quickly!" Ghiaccio snarled.

"It really shouldn't be that hard, we just have to figure out what we're going to be translating," Illuso said.

"What about you, Giorno; who's your partner?" Mista asked.

"Trish and I are working together on it," Giorno said, glancing toward the girl who gave a nod of confirmation. He felt a little bad about their pairing. Trish was better at English than he was, and he didn't want her to feel like she was going to have to do most of the work. It's just that while he could understand English and speak it pretty well, actually writing it was another story. The spelling was what got him every time.

"I've already got a couple ideas for things we can translate if you don't." Trish told him. "Maybe we can get together sometime this week after school to work on it?"

Giorno nodded. "That sounds good."

Narancia leaned across the table to get Bruno's attention. "Hey, how's Fugo doing? We haven't seen him for a while."

"Oh, he's fine," Bruno said with a small smile. "I think he's enjoying the quiet."

It had been a month since the incident with Pisani. The whole situation still made Giorno's stomach turn as much as working up the courage to talk to Bruno that day had. He wasn't sure he was glad that he had been slightly off in his suspicions. Giorno could understand the shame of not wanting to talk about something like that, even to his closest friends. But he was still glad for Fugo's sake that Bruno and Leone had been there that day just when they needed to be.

He also hoped that Bruno had completely forgotten the conversation they'd had. Luckily it hadn't seemed to come up again.

Thankfully, the school had decided to allow Fugo to finish his year's work at home if he came in to do tests on the weekend. By now, most of the rumors and snide remarks from the other students had stopped but Giorno was sure that if Fugo came back they would start up again soon enough and no one would leave him alone. Giorno knew. It was why he hadn't bothered to mention the fact that he was half Japanese at any new schools since he had learned to speak fluent Italian and had no reason for anyone to know. It wasn't that he was ashamed of it, it was that he had learned the hard way that anything slightly different gave other kids all the reason they needed to make your life miserable.

"I'm glad Fugo's doing okay, I just miss him," Narancia sighed.

"You know you can come over any time you want," Bruno told him with a laugh.

"Yeah, it's not like he's left the country," Leone scoffed.

"I know, but I don't get to see him every day anymore."

"Maybe we can get together this weekend," Bruno offered. "Anyone else is welcome to come too, of course."

"Awesome!" Narancia replied.

The bell rang and they all got up to head back to their classes. Giorno exchanged his books from his locker, thinking about whether or not he would go over to Bruno's place that weekend. He knew he would be welcomed, but he still felt a little awkward about it. Maybe if he could get a ride with Mista he would.

Really, it was about having the option to hang out with friends that made Giorno happiest.

Bruno stopped by the office before he left school to pick up Fugo's schoolwork for the week and then headed home on his bicycle.

"Hey, I'm back," he called as he came in the door, glancing around.

Fugo was sitting at the kitchen table with papers spread around him and a cup of tea. He offered Bruno a small smile. "Hey. How was school?"

"Oh, the usual," Bruno said, and handed over a folder. "Here's your work."

Fugo sighed. "Thanks."

Bruno went to the fridge to grab something to drink before sitting down on the other side of the table, glancing over the papers Fugo had spread in front of him, pen in hand.

"What're you doing?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, I was actually looking into universities nearby that taught library sciences," Fugo said a little sheepishly.

Bruno cocked his head to one side. "Is that what you'd like to do?"

Fugo played with his pen. "Well…I always expected to get a doctorate, and spend the rest of my life writing highly acclaimed papers, maybe teaching eventually, but…I don't know. I like research, and I like libraries. I thought maybe I would really like to be a research librarian. It's a nice quiet job. And then I don't have to focus my interests on any one thing. I think I'd find that very dull."

Bruno was happy to see Fugo showing interest in something again. "I think it would suit you well," he admitted.

Fugo gave a small smile. "I think so too. When I talked to the school counselor, she said I still have a good chance of getting a scholarship. In fact, pretty much everyone at the school offered to write me a letter of recommendation." His face soured. "Guess they want to suck up after everything."

"Maybe," Bruno said. "But I also think they see how good you really are and want you to succeed." He hesitated slightly. "What happened, especially with your parents, I think everyone just wants to make sure you have everything you need."

Fugo's hand clenched tighter around his pen and Bruno felt bad for bringing up his parents again. "I guess." He sighed and put his pen down, taking up the mug of tea. "I just feel bad about imposing on you and your father…"

"Panna, I've told you you're not imposing," Bruno said firmly. "You have no idea how mad he was at your parents for kicking you out. I don't think I've ever seen him that mad. He was glad he was able to take you in." He shook his head. "And seriously, Papa is thrilled that you've taken over the accounts for the market. Neither of us were ever good at math."

"I really do appreciate it," Fugo said earnestly. "I just wish I knew how to help more."

Bruno smiled. "Well, having an extra pair of hands at the market is always helpful."

Fugo suddenly smiled wider than Bruno had seen in a long time. "My parents would shit themselves if they saw me working in the fish market."

Bruno laughed. "They definitely would." He got up to search for a snack. "The others said they miss you, by the way. Narancia especially."

Fugo snorted. "I saw him last week."

"I know," Bruno grinned. "I hope it's okay that I invited them over this weekend?"

Fugo nodded. "Yes. I've…missed them too, honestly. I enjoy the quiet here, but it is, well, quiet."

"We're running out of good days for the beach anyway. It will get colder soon," Bruno said before going to retrieve his backpack. "Might as well make the most of it."

Fugo nodded and Bruno set out his homework to work on while Fugo drafted his letters, answering any math questions Bruno had. Once they were done, they cleared the table and started on dinner so it would be ready by the time Paolo got home. It was one of his tourist days, so he would probably be a little late and tired when he got back.

Bruno had actually been surprised at just how much Fugo enjoyed cooking and how good he actually was at it. He was glad to have another pair of hands to help, and it also helped Fugo to feel like he was giving back something even though he definitely didn't need to do that.

It was still too early for all the bad memories to be erased, and Bruno and his father had learned to be careful in how they approached Fugo, not startling him or touching him if he couldn't see them. But Fugo did seem to be settling in now, and Bruno was glad he was looking toward his own future again, this time toward something he truly wanted to do. That seemed like a step in the right direction and felt like things were looking up all around.

The next day, Giorno gathered all his stuff from his locker as school ended, shoving his books into his backpack. Trish met him with her own bag slung over her shoulder while he was finishing up.

"Hey, are we still on for today?" she asked.

Giorno had actually almost forgotten they had agreed to work on their project that afternoon. "Oh, yes. It's probably a good idea to get started on it."

"Great!" Trish grinned and they walked out of school together, taking their normal path home.

"So, I have a couple of ideas for things we can translate from Italian into English, but I don't really have anything for what we can translate from English into Italian," Trish told him.

Giorno considered. "Let's start with that then. I'm still trying to figure that out too." He had tentatively been thinking of a couple poems, but he wasn't sure how easy they would be to translate, and he was maybe a little self-conscious about them. His stepfather had certainly thought it was funny that he liked to read poetry so Giorno didn't really like to talk about it much, even though he didn't think Trish would care.

"So, um, where do you want to do this?" Trish asked suddenly.

"Oh," Giorno realized they hadn't really discussed that, and frankly he hadn't given it much thought. They probably should have just gone to the school library, but they'd have to backtrack now to do so, and the local one was across town. "Um…it doesn't really matter to me. What do you think?"

Trish bit her lip. "Um, well…no one's gonna be home until later, and I don't think my mom would like it if I brought a boy home. No offense or anything."

Giorno nodded in agreement before Trish continued.

"So…maybe it would be better to go to your place?"

Giorno froze in realization, but recovered quickly. "Oh, um, yeah, I guess that would be fine."

"Look, if it isn't, we can just go back to the library or a coffee shop or something," Trish added quickly, seeming to pick up on his hesitation.

"No, it's fine," Giorno insisted quickly, trying to sound more confident and gave a small smile. "We're closer to my place so it would make a lot more sense to go there." Besides, it was possible neither his mother nor stepfather would even be home. If he was lucky they might both be out.

"Great!" Trish smiled back, looking relived herself as she and Giorno continued on their way.

Once they got to his street, Giorno led the way up to the rundown house with some embarrassment, fishing his key out. His stomach sank as he caught sight of his stepfather's car parked around the side of the house. Maybe if he was lucky he'd be asleep.

Luck was not on his side that day, however. No sooner had they stepped inside than his stepfather appeared from the kitchen, half a sandwich in hand.

"I'm back," Giorno said lamely.

His stepfather's eyes instantly fell on Trish in both a cruel and curious way. "Who's this?"

Giorno gave into the sudden urge to step forward, putting himself between his stepfather and Trish. "This is Trish. From school," he added lamely. "We're working on a project together."

"Oh, I see," the man's face twisted into a crude smile. "Well, you better get to work then."

Giorno nodded and hurriedly motioned Trish toward the stairs, leading her up them, hands clenched tight in his backpack straps, heart beating heavily.

He calmed down slightly once they got to his room, even if he still felt extremely self-conscious about it. He'd never actually had a friend over before so he wasn't used to showing off his room. He didn't think it was dirty or anything but he also wasn't looking at it with an outsider's eye so…

He glanced around quickly to make sure there was no underwear lying around, and then slid his backpack off. "Um…I don't have a desk or anything, I'm afraid. I usually just work on my bed."

Trish's eyes were busy looking around his room. There wasn't much. Just the bed, a small bookcase in one corner, and a dresser that held multiple plant pots with plants that flourished despite the little sun that came in. Giorno was careful to give them each a turn on the windowsill throughout the week.

"You really do have a lot of plants," Trish commented then turned to him with a smile, quickly adding, "They look nice. I'm not saying that's a bad thing or anything."

Giorno shrugged. "Um, thanks."

Trish took her backpack off and plopped down on the floor to sit against the side of his bed. "And it's okay not to have a desk. I know you just moved and everything. I'm fine on the floor."

Giorno felt himself relax slightly as Trish seemed not to care about her surroundings. Maybe Giorno's room wasn't as bad as he thought.

"So," Trish said, pulling her notebook and a pink pencil case out of her backpack. "Where do you want to start?"

Giorno sat down across from her, cross-legged on the floor. "Well, if you had some ideas for things we can translate into English, why don't we pick that out first?"

They decided pretty quickly from Trish's choices, and then started talking about what they could translate from English into Italian.

"Do you have anything in English on your shelf over there?" Trish asked, pointing to his small collection of books.

"Um…" Giorno faltered slightly as he got up, before he finally reached out and pulled out a small book. "I do have a few poems…"

"Let me see." Trish took the book, flipping through it. "You like Emily Dickenson?"

Giorno felt a slight blush flood his cheeks as he shrugged. But there wasn't derision in Trish's eyes like from his stepfather.

"I always thought her poems were beautiful! Even when I couldn't understand English very well," Trish said.

Giorno returned to his seat on the floor. "We could do one of them if you want," he said.

"That sounds good," Trish agreed and handed back the book. "You should pick out your favorite since I chose the other one."

Giorno took the well-read book, one he'd picked up at a used book stall a few years back after reading one of Dickenson's poems in school and really enjoying it. He flipped through it until it opened to the page he had probably been to the most. He hesitated, feeling slightly self-conscious about sharing it, but it was the one he was most familiar with and would be the easiest to translate.

"I like 'The Thing With Feathers'," he said quietly, handing the book back over to her. "I don't know why, I just…like the way it makes me feel when I read it."

He watched, still a bit self-conscious, as Trish read slowly over the poem and then finally looked back up at him.

"I really like this one; it's actually…really beautiful. I can see why you like it," she said sincerely. "I think we should do it, but you'll have to help me with translation because I'm not that great with keeping meanings intact when I translate things."

Giorno nodded and took the book back with a small smile, a bit of warmth flooding his chest to replace the nervousness at sharing one of the things he kept close to his heart. "How about I get started on this and you start on yours and then we can compare notes?" he suggested.

Trish dug out her English dictionary and nodded in confirmation. "Sounds good."

They both worked in comfortable silence, only broken once in a while by discussing with each other what words would be best to use. Giorno debated heavily while translating the poem. He didn't worry so much about the rhythm or whether it rhymed, and spent more time making sure he captured the intent and feeling of the words themselves. It actually had him considering the poem even more than he had whenever he read it in the past, and in turn, he felt like he appreciated it a lot more afterward.

By the time Trish said she had to go, they had both gotten about halfway through their translations.

"Maybe we can get together tomorrow or Wednesday to finish it?" Trish suggested as she packed her stuff up. "That way we're not working last minute."

"Sounds good," Giorno told her and belatedly got to his feet after Trish started toward the door of his room. He hurried to walk her downstairs and waved when she turned to say goodbye to him.

Giorno returned to his room, which felt slightly empty after the comfortable companionship he'd felt with Trish there. He had always thought he was perfectly okay being alone, but after making real friends and actually hanging out with them on multiple occasions, he realized there was something about having others around who laughed with him and not at him, who were genuinely interested in what he had to say, that made him long for that company when he didn't have it.

But it wasn't like he wouldn't see Trish and the others tomorrow. As much as school could be nerve-wracking, and a lot of work sometimes, it really was the highlight of his day, if only to be around people who saw him as more than just a nuisance or something to work out frustrations on.

He sighed and grabbed his backpack from the floor, tossing it onto the bed and rummaging through it for his planner to figure out what other homework assignments he needed to do that day.

He was startled by the door opening suddenly, and footsteps coming in unannounced.

He looked up to see his stepfather standing there, eyes firmly on Giorno.

Giorno straightened stiffly from looking in his backpack. "Do you need something?"

"You being smart with me, brat?" Giovanna growled, taking a step forward.

Giorno lowered his eyes. "No," he said quietly.

"So, you gonna tell me who that pretty little thing earlier was?"

Giorno glanced back up at him. "That was Trish; I told you we had to work on a project for school."

Giorno flinched as his stepfather reached down to the floor, snatching the book of poetry up from where they had left it. He shook it in Giorno's face. "Reading her poetry?"

"For the project," Giorno reiterated.

Giovanna's eyes met his with an almost gleeful suspicion. "You screwing her?"

Giorno's face flamed in mortification. "What? No!"

His stepfather threw the book, and it hit Giorno in the cheek before landing on the bed. The man's hand was in the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer to his stale breath. "Because I don't want her daddy to come over here telling me that a little shit like you got his daughter pregnant, you understand? So if you are, you sure as hell better be careful about it."

"She's just a friend," Giorno tried.

Giovanna shoved him hard in the chest and the backs of Giorno's knees hit the side of his bed, throwing him heavily against the creaky mattress.

"Maybe I'm just giving you too much credit," Giovanna snorted. "I don't want to see her here again, you understand? You want to screw some bitch, it better not be under my roof. You hear me, brat?"

Giorno nodded. There would be no point in protesting; his stepfather wouldn't believe him anyway. He knew it had been a huge mistake allowing Trish to come over to begin with. They should have just gone back into town.

Giovanna snarled and reached down, gripping his face firmly to wrench his head upward. "I said do you understand, you little shit?"

"Yes, sir," Giorno bit out before the man shoved him back onto the bed and left the room.

Giorno let out a shuddering breath as he sat up straight again, hands slowly unclenching from fists. He fought back the sting behind his eyes as he carefully retrieved the book of poetry from beside him, straightening out the pages that had been crumpled from the poor treatment.

He really should know better than to think he was allowed to have anything nice, especially within the confines of this house.

He set the book aside and went back to his homework.

One of these days he was going to get out of here. It just seemed like it would be a long time coming.