And here we are at the conclusion to Part 2! Everyone gets to take care of Giorno in this one (and he finally gets to take care of himself) I hope you all enjoy.

Again, warnings for discussions of abuse.

Chapter Ten

Giorno didn't even know how to process what was happening as Leone drove silently through the dark streets, heading toward the coast. His face ached, his nose numb as he tried to stop the bleeding with the napkins. His wrist was also aching from when he had caught himself as he fell. He didn't even know if it was broken or not. Frankly, everything was just happening all at once and it was threatening to overwhelm him.

He took a shaky breath, trying to compose himself, hoping that Bruno's father wouldn't insist that they go to the police the second they got there.

Leone pulled up in front of the cozy-looking cottage and Giorno's heart flipped.

"It's really late," he mumbled. "They're probably already asleep."

"It's fine," Leone replied. "They're not gonna be mad. I promise. Come on."

Giorno climbed out of the car reluctantly, trailing behind Leone as the goth strode determinedly up the walk and knocked on the door. Giorno shivered in the cold night air and Leone gave him what seemed to be a genuinely worried look.

A light above the door flicked on and it was opened a second later to reveal Signore Bucciarati. He wore a wary look which turned to curiosity as he faced Leone.

"Did you forget something?"

"I'm sorry that I probably woke you, but Giorno needs a place to stay the night," Leone said and nudged Giorno forward so he was no longer hiding in the shadows. "I would have just taken him home with me but I thought he would be more comfortable here."

Paolo's eyes widened as he saw Giorno and instantly stepped away from the door. "Come in. It's cold out."

Leone nudged Giorno forward again as Paolo closed the door behind them and turned a couple more lights on.

Giorno turned as a step creaked on the floor and saw Bruno already dressed for bed coming into the room, Fugo close behind him.

"Giorno? Leone, what—"

But his father cut him off with a raised hand. "Come sit down," Signore Bucciarati told Giorno, reaching out to him without quite touching his shoulder. Giorno numbly moved toward the kitchen table, and slumped there in one of the chairs.

Bruno hurried over, crouching next to him as he ducked to look into his face. "You're hurt!"

Paolo came over put a hand on Bruno's shoulder. "Give him a little room, Bruno. Put some water on for tea? Pannacotta, the first aid kit is in the bathroom under the sink. Why don't you go grab that?"

Bruno and Fugo both nodded and hurried to start their assigned tasks as Signore Bucciarati wet a clean cloth and came over to the table, pulling out a chair to sit in front of Giorno.

"Let me get you cleaned up," he said quietly. "That okay?"

Giorno nodded shakily, still processing.

"Leone, what happened?" Paolo asked the goth who was hovering, not having been given a task.

"I saw Giorno walking back from Mista's so I gave him a lift," Leone said. "And then when we got back to his house—you lost your key, didn't you?"

Giorno nodded belatedly, realizing the question was for him. "I thought it was in my bag, but I guess it wasn't."

"Anyway, his stepdad flipped out when he knocked on the door and did that," Leone said, barely able to hide the obvious rage in his voice that was just making Giorno feel even more uncomfortable. "He said he didn't want to go to the police, so I just brought him here."

"That's fine," Paolo said as he reached out to tip Giorno's chin up while he carefully scrubbed the blood from under his nose.

Fugo returned with the first aid kit and Paolo turned to open it, pulling out some anti septic.

"Leone, it's late," Paolo told the goth. "Call your parents and let them know where you are. You can stay over if you want."

Leone nodded and went off to find the phone.

Giorno winced as Signore Bucciarati cleaned the scrape across his cheek. Apparently, he had another cut on his eyebrow too that he hadn't noticed.

"Your arm hurt too?"

Giorno glanced down at the still throbbing limb and nodded silently.

Paolo tossed the bloody gauze he had been using into the nearby trashcan and gently pulled Giorno's arm away from his body, taking it between both his hands. He probed carefully and Giorno bit back a sound of discomfort, concentrating on watching the man's hands. Signore Bucciarati's fingers were covered in hard callouses from his work at sea, but they were still somehow so warm and gentle that it made Giorno's eyes smart.

"You can move all your fingers?"

Giorno twitched them with some pain but they did work.

"Well, I don't think anything's broken," Paolo said. "Probably just a sprain. I think I have a brace somewhere we can put on it, but we'll get it on ice for a while first."

He got up to go grab an ice pack from the freezer and Bruno came over to the table with a cup of tea that he placed at Giorno's elbow, before giving his arm a careful squeeze.

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

Giorno shook his head, not trusting himself to speak right now. He couldn't look Bruno in the eye either. One glance of the sorrow and fury that darkened his blue eyes was too much. Bruno just squeezed his arm again and moved aside as his father returned with an ice pack wrapped in a towel.

As Signore Bucciarati bent over to wrap it around Giorno's wrist, Giorno shifted, causing his braid to slip over his shoulder. Paolo glanced at the back of his neck and then inhaled slowly. Giorno froze as he felt the man hook a careful finger into his shirt and pull the collar down a couple inches.

Giorno curled into himself further. Everyone in the room had frozen.

"How much more is there?" Paolo asked levelly.

Giorno just shook his head and suddenly felt his control slipping. A strangled sob burst out unbidden as he curled even further into himself.

He was surprised to feel a strong hand on the back of his head as he was pulled briefly against a warm body that smelled of salt water and vaguely of fish in a way that was strangely comforting.

"It's all right, son. You're safe here, I promise." Signore Bucciarati told him firmly as Giorno's shoulders shook with another sob and he pressed his face against the man's side.

Giorno settled back into the chair after a couple long minutes and Paolo handed him some tissues. "Will you let me look at your back too?" he asked.

Giorno took a shuddering breath, scrubbing his eyes with his free hand, his face aching even more from the effort of crying. He nodded once before he lost his courage.

Paolo turned to the others. "Why don't you all go make him up a place to sleep and find him some pajamas?"

Giorno glanced up briefly with another deep breath. "Bruno can stay," he said.

Bruno instantly nodded and came to sit down at the table, hand instantly folding over Giorno's forearm again in silent support.

Paolo got up. "I have a liniment I use on my hands in the winter. It should help those marks too."

He left and Giorno realized he was going to have to take his shirt off. He straightened and carefully started to pull it up over his head one-handed.

"Here," Bruno offered and helped him get it over his head without hitting his injured nose.

Bruno apparently wasn't prepared for the sight of Giorno's back though because he couldn't help the brief exhale.

"Oh god, Giorno."

Signore Bucciarati came back and motioned for Giorno to turn around, not saying another thing.

Giorno sat backwards in the chair as Paolo took his time rubbing the liniment into his scars and still healing wounds both. It stung at first, but it eventually started to feel better and he slumped against the back of the chair, feeling incredibly exhausted.

"You can stay for as long as you need to," Paolo told him.

"Thank you," Giorno finally managed to choke out. "I—I'm sorry for the inconvenience…"

"It's not an inconvenience," Bruno cut in. "Really."

Giorno's eyes welled up again and he turned away as Paolo came up with the wrist brace, helping Giorno into it before he finally cleaned up the first aid kit.

Fugo and Leone returned as Giorno was tugging his shirt carefully back on.

"We could only find some extra blankets and a sleeping bag," Fugo said.

"I don't mind sharing my bed with you if you don't," Bruno told Giorno. "Unless you would rather swap Leone for the couch."

Giorno shook his head. "Anywhere is fine." He just really wanted to lie down and not have to think anymore.

"We'll get something figured out for you tomorrow," Paolo promised him.

"I'm sure you're tired," Bruno said sympathetically. "Why don't we go to bed?"

Giorno nodded gratefully and followed Bruno to his room. It was indeed cozy. The bed covered in what appeared to be a handmade quilt, a soft braided rug on the floor that Giorno unconsciously squinched his toes in.

He was admiring the collection of shells on the dresser when Bruno nudged him gently. Giorno jumped.

"Sorry," Bruno apologized and handed him a set of pajamas. "You can wear these. We're pretty much the same size."

Giorno nodded and carefully dressed as Bruno turned to fold down the bed, adding the extra pillows and blankets Fugo and Leone had found.

When Giorno had put on the soft pajamas, he simply stood there, cradling his injured arm until Bruno turned with a small smile and nodded toward the bed. "Come on. I'm tired too."

Giorno's body finally gave up and he crossed the last few feet to collapse onto the bed, curling up on his side. Bruno took the other side and pulled the covers over both of them before reaching over to turn off his lamp.

The room was now awash in moonlight and the gentle crash of waves could be heard in the distance. Giorno closed his eyes and tried to sleep but even though he was exhausted, his mind was still too full.

He felt Bruno shift slightly. "Giorno?"

"Yes?"

There was a pause before the other boy continued, "You could have told us, you know."

Giorno let out a shuddering breath, curling tighter. He didn't know what to reply to that.

"Trish knows, doesn't she?"

Giorno's stomach squeezed and he nodded jerkily. "Yeah. But don't be mad at her. I…I told her not to tell you."

"No one's mad at her or you," Bruno said softly. "I promise, Giorno. I'm just…I'm just glad you're out of there."

Giorno bit his lip. Yeah, he was out of there for the night, but how long would that last? He'd like to think that justice would be done, but he wasn't stupid enough to think that it would be that easy, and he couldn't stay here forever. But exhaustion was pulling at him now and he found he couldn't really care as much as he had before. He was safe for tonight at least. He might as well take advantage of it.

He didn't say anything, but he shifted until his back was pressed against Bruno's a solid, comforting warmth in the dark that served as a reminder that he wasn't home. Or…whatever he should call it.

Bruno seemed surprised at first but his weight settled soon enough into a comfortable press.

"Goodnight, Giorno," he whispered, and that was the last thing Giorno heard before he drifted off.

Bruno woke as dawn was barely peeking over the horizon, blinking tiredly before he registered the solid warmth pressed against his back.

He carefully shifted and turned to see that Giorno must have curled up against him sometime in the night, his nose practically pressed between Bruno's shoulder blades. Bruno's heart wrenched again; the image of all the scars across Giorno's back haunting him. He just couldn't imagine someone doing that to their own child. It made him sick.

He made sure Giorno was still covered by the blankets before he got up and headed out to the kitchen where he could hear his father and smell coffee.

Leone was already sitting at the table, looking tired and like he'd slept in his makeup—probably because he had, face smudged with the stain of half-heartedly removed black. Bruno took a seat across from him and his father set down a mug of coffee with cream and sugar for him.

"How is he?" he asked.

Bruno shrugged. "He pretty much passed out last night. I didn't want to wake him up yet." He pulled the warm mug toward him and held it between his hands. "What are we going to do? He can't go back there."

"I have no intention of letting him go back there," Paolo said firmly, a hint of rare fury in his tone.

"I'm gonna head back home in a minute to talk to my dad," Leone said.

"Tell him to call me," Bruno's father said.

Leone nodded and pushed his chair back, going to rinse his cup out in the sink. "I'll get going then. Thanks for letting me stay the night."

Bruno followed him out to his car, arms wrapped around himself against the chill of the morning.

"I'm really glad you decided to take the shortcut last night," he said.

Leone's hand tightened around his keys as he pulled them from his pocket. "So am I. I mean, how long would it have taken before…"

Bruno shook his head. "I don't know. And yet I knew something was wrong. I knew it. But I couldn't see exactly what. I should have noticed when he was the one who brought up the idea of Fugo being abused but…"

Leone shook his head. "That makes two of us," he mumbled, then he shifted uncomfortably and sighed. "Look, I know I haven't been the nicest to the guy, but—"

"I know," Bruno cut in, sparing his friend the need to voice what he knew was on his mind. "You don't have to explain yourself to me."

Leone's lips twisted. "I just fucking hate bullies. They're shit. I feel like shit."

"I think Giorno knows you're not like that," Bruno assured him then gave him a small smirk. "Not that you can't be grumpy and standoffish, but we all know there's no malicious intent."

Leone clicked his tongue in disgust and turned to the car. "I'll see you later. Do you want to call everyone or do you want me to?"

Bruno bit his lip in thought. "Can you do it? I don't want Giorno to have to overhear me explaining it multiple times."

Leone nodded and yanked the car door open. "Yeah, no problem."

Bruno headed back inside once he drove off. Fugo was up now too, making tea in the kitchen with an exhausted look as his father cooked bacon on the stove. Bruno silently went to crack eggs, whipping them up with some milk and seasoning.

"What are we going to do about Giorno?" Bruno asked his father.

"I'm not letting him go back there," his father said again. "I'm going to see if Abbacchio can help me get at least a temporary guardianship of him. Unless he has someone else to go to."

"If he had anyone who cared enough, he probably would have gone to them already," Fugo commented. "Leone said he was worried about his stepfather having contacts with the police or something."

Paolo pressed his lips together as he took the eggs and poured them into the pan. "We'll worry about that if it comes to it. The kid has the proof on his body."

"It is a lot more convincing than the alternative," Fugo said bitterly.

Bruno suddenly heard a step in the hallway and hissed at the others to be quiet as Giorno appeared, looking exhausted, his face even more garish today.

Bruno smiled at him. "Good morning, Giorno. Did you sleep okay?"

Giorno nodded silently and slumped into one of the kitchen chairs.

"Do you like coffee?" Fugo asked him as he got up. "Or tea?"

Giorno glanced up. "Tea is fine."

Fugo started making another cup and Paolo dished up four plates of food and set them out on the table. "There's more if you want it," he told Giorno who looked surprised to see food appear in front of him. "How is your wrist?"

Giorno glanced down at the brace, flexing his fingers slightly. "A little sore, but it's not that bad."

They all ate in silence and Giorno looked a little better after the food, though seemed at a loss as to what to say or do once he was finished.

Paolo took his empty plate and said, "I know you probably don't want to think about it right now, but I know you don't have any of your stuff here. If you want, I can go over and pick it up."

Giorno stiffened slightly, playing with the strap on the brace. "I'll need to get my school books. I don't…even know where I left my backpack."

Had it really been just the night before that they had all studied together at Mista's house? Bruno felt like it was a lifetime ago now. He couldn't imagine what it was like for Giorno.

Paolo nodded. "I'll go over this morning then."

Giorno pushed his chair back and stood. "I'll go with you."

Bruno looked at him, surprised. "Are you sure? It's not a problem…"

Giorno shook his head. "I doubt they'd let you in if I wasn't with you. And it's fine, really. As long as…as long as I don't have to stay there."

Bruno's father gave him a firm look. "Of course not. You never have to go back there again after today."

Giorno exhaled slowly and nodded.

Bruno got up as well. "I'll find you something to wear.

After Giorno got dressed He got into the car with Paolo and Bruno who had insisted on going for support. Bruno could practically feel how tense Giorno was from where he sat in the backseat, only speaking to give directions on how to get there. Bruno wanted to offer some sort of comfort, but wasn't sure what Giorno needed most right now. Everyone always seemed to think he was the one who was the most put together, but while Bruno could spot an issue a mile away, he wasn't always that versed in fixing it or dealing with the aftermath.

Once they pulled up, it felt like the tension in Giorno could snap at any moment.

Paolo put the car in park and glanced over his shoulder. "You can stay in the car if you want."

Giorno shook his head jerkily. "No. It's okay." He swallowed hard but his voice steadied. "I—I need to do this."

Bruno's father nodded and they got out. Bruno stuck close to Giorno for support as they walked up to the door.

"Just let me do the talking," Paolo told him before he knocked heavily on the door, then again more insistently, a moment later, when it wasn't answered.

Finally, the door was yanked open and Bruno finally saw Giorno's stepfather.

"The hell you want this early?" the man demanded, squinting in the light, before his eyes fell on Giorno and he chuckled bitterly. "Ah, returning the brat? Sorry if he caused you trouble."

"I'm not returning him, he came to get his things," Paolo said firmly.

"Excuse me?" Giorno's stepfather asked.

Paolo turned to Giorno and Bruno, jerking his head toward the door. "Go get what you need to."

Bruno put a careful arm around Giorno's shoulders, leading him toward the small gap between Giovanna and the door.

"Hold on, you wait a damn minute—"

Paolo inserted himself between the man and the two teens, pushing the whole party further inside. He gave Bruno a nod.

Bruno ushered Giorno past and then followed him quickly up the stairs as a woman's voice joined the conversation.

Giorno was shaking by the time they got to his room, breathing shakily, and Bruno squeezed his shoulder. "It's okay, we'll be quick. Papa won't let them near you. I promise."

Giorno opened his mouth, glancing back toward the partially open door and Bruno shook his head. "And don't worry about him either. Frankly I don't think your stepfather could last two seconds against Papa."

Giorno exhaled unsteadily and nodded. "Okay. Um… I have a bag in the closet and I think a couple boxes from moving."

Bruno swiftly helped him pack. There wasn't much, he realized. Hardly any personal effects aside from clothes and some books and the bare minimum of toiletries Giorno pulled from the bathroom. Bruno did help him pack all his potted plants carefully into a box, promising they would find room for them.

As they carried the stuff back down, Bruno could see his father standing in front of Giorno's parents with his arms folded firmly over his chest. Giorno's mother glanced up as they appeared.

"You're really just going to leave like that?" she demanded. "After everything?"

Bruno was surprised when Giorno turned to her, a steely expression on his face. "What do you mean everything? All the times you left me alone, or told me to be quiet, or didn't do anything when he beat me?"

"You little shit! How dare you disrespect your mother like that!" Giovanna snapped, stepping forward.

Paolo met him, firmly inserting himself between the man and Giorno.

"You heard him, he's not coming back here again," Paolo told them and Bruno's heart swelled with pride and affection for his father.

"You bastard! You're just going to take my son from me?" Giorno's mother screeched. "What gives you the right?"

"He's not taking me. I'm leaving," Giorno said.

It was almost like he had hit her, Bruno thought. He couldn't imagine her having a more shocked expression on her face if he had slapped her across the cheek.

"I'm done being treated worse than trash," Giorno continued and it was like he was a completely different person, eyes flashing, but with the glint of new life in them. "I'm not going to stand for it anymore."

"You—after everything you're just going to leave?" Giorno's mother demanded, repeating herself from earlier, actually looking shocked. "You've let these friends of yours get into your head."

Giorno let out a strangled sound that Bruno realized was some kind of bitter laugh. "After everything? Of course I'm leaving. I just, sadly, didn't have the courage until now."

Giorno's stepfather growled, hand going to his belt, tightening around it. "You bring a bruiser to my house and call that courage?" He turned back to Bruno's father. "You should have kept your nose out of this. It's a family matter. None of your business."

"It's none of my business that a child has permanent scars from copious beatings either, I assume," Bruno's father said darkly. "Don't try to threaten me." He turned to Bruno and Giorno. "Come on, you're getting out of here today."

The woman glanced toward her husband, spluttering. "He-He can't do that! Call the police or something!"

"Go ahead. I've got a lawyer friend willing to chat about it," Paolo said, and simply turned around, ushering Bruno and Giorno out the door. "Let's go."

Giorno's mother surged forward and grabbed Giorno's arm. Bruno and his father both moved in, but waited as Giorno met her eyes.

"It wasn't all bad, was it?" she asked, an almost desperate tone to her voice that curdled Bruno's stomach. "Haruno?"

Giorno flinched slightly, but pulled his arm out of her grasp and simply turned.

"Goodbye, mother," he said with such finality it sent goosebumps down Bruno's spine.

Paolo picked up the other box and they carried Giorno's meager belongings out to the truck. Bruno spotted Giorno's backpack that had been lying by the doorstep in the unkept bushes and picked that up too, putting it into the backseat.

Giorno was shaking by the time they got back into the car, breathing heavily as he clutched his box of plants in his lap. It seemed like he had used up all his energy confronting his parents and Bruno couldn't blame him for the crash. It had even been a lot to watch. He'd never seen Giorno like that before.

"It's all right, son, it's over," Paolo told him quietly as he pulled out of the drive.

"That was really brave," Bruno added. "It takes a lot of guts to stand up like that."

Giorno nodded shakily. "Thank you," he said. "I—I don't…"

"Don't worry about it," Paolo said. "I told you you can stay for as long as you need. And we'll get this sorted out properly, so you don't have to worry."

"We'll get you moved in first though," Bruno told him kindly.

Giorno nodded again and they drove back to the house in silence, but not before Bruno saw the smallest tilt of a relieved smile cross Giorno's lips.

By the time they got back to Bruno's place, Fugo had cleared one side of the guest room and consolidated the dresser so Giorno could have a drawer. They had already moved all the stuff they were storing there to the attic, and Fugo hadn't brought much aside from some clothes and books, so there would be plenty of room, they assured him.

The problem was more the state of what Giorno had. He was almost embarrassed for Bruno and Fugo to see his too-small clothes, all of which were wearing out at the seams. It seemed surreal to even be doing what he was doing right now, his brain still not having registered that he didn't have to go back home. Or rather, back to his mother and stepfather's home.

"There's some closet space for you too, Giorno," Bruno told him. "And we'll get you some new clothes and stuff soon." Giorno flushed in embarrassment but Bruno was quick to offer a smile of reassurance to show he had meant no offense by it. "First order of business is somewhere for you to sleep."

"Leone called and said he would bring over an air mattress for now until we can find something better," Fugo told them.

They arranged the room, finding space for Giorno's plants on the windowsill and dresser and a couple on the small bookcase that Giorno added his few books to as well.

There was a knock on the front door, and Bruno left to go see who it was while Giorno was finding space for the rest of his books.

Fugo sat down on his bed, leaning over with his hands clasped.

"I know you probably feel like you're intruding here, but you don't have to, I promise," Fugo told him. "Bruno and Signore Bucciarati—they're good people. Really. The best I know, actually." He sighed, and shifted until he was hugging himself. "I've never been so happy as I have been here. It was…exactly what I needed. I think you'll fit in well."

Giorno looked down at his hands, playing with the brace on his wrist as he sat cross-legged on the floor. "It's not so much that, it's more that I'm afraid of being forced to move back in with my parents."

"We're not going to let that happen," Fugo said firmly. "Look, you have enough evidence for a case. You might have to testify at court, but there's no way they'll force you to go back there."

"I don't know who my stepfather has in his circles though," Giorno admitted. "I'm pretty sure he's a loan shark or something. I just don't want Signore Bucciarati to get hurt because he took me in." It had been easy enough for Fugo. His parents had literally told him they wanted nothing to do with him, erased his existence from their lives. He could have gone wherever he wanted.

Fugo gave him a sympathetic look. "Do you actually think they want you back?"

Giorno sighed. "No. I—my mother never wanted me. Constantly told me that. And I was nothing but a punching bag to Giovanna. I'm more worried about them wanting to avoid trouble by trying to hide me away."

"They can't make you do anything," Fugo told him firmly. "You don't belong to them."

Giorno nodded, feeling a little better, even though his stomach was still in knots. Probably would be for a while until he adjusted.

"By the way…" Fugo said hesitantly, clasping and un-clasping his hands in his lap. "Since you'll be sleeping in here, I…sometimes have nightmares. I just wanted you to know."

"It's okay," Giorno assured him. "Sometimes I have nightmares too."

Fugo's shoulders relaxed slightly with an understanding nod.

The door to the room opened then and Bruno returned, Followed by Leone.

"Here's the air mattress Leone promised," Bruno told Giorno with a smile as he held up the roll of plastic and a pump.

"My parents said they'd ask around to see if anyone had an extra bed they could give you, so hopefully you won't have to sleep on it for too long," Leone said.

"The air mattress is perfectly fine," Giorno told him, standing up as Fugo and Bruno started to roll it out against the opposite wall.

"Oh, and this is from my mom," Leone said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a card. "So you can buy some new clothes or whatever else you need. It's a gift card for one of those department stores, so I hope you can find something you like there."

Giorno kept his gaze focused on Leone's chipped black nail polish as he took the card, feeling slightly overwhelmed by all the kindness, even more so when he saw the amount the card held. "Thank you. Really," he managed.

Leone shoved his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, well…look, I know I've been kind of a dick to you and I'm sorry. Sometimes it just bugs me when I can't get a read on people, but now that I know what was going on with you I feel like an asshole for treating you like that." He pressed his black lips into a thin line, looking like he was going to shift out of his skin. "I just want you to know I don't hate you or anything," he finished in a rush.

Fugo didn't help by snorting. "Did Bruno put you up to that?"

"No, shut up!" Leone snapped. "This is exactly why I'm not nice!"

Bruno was smirking. "I did not put him up to it, but Giorno, it is a rare thing for Leone to apologize, so he must actually like you quite a bit."

Leone opened his mouth to protest, then snapped it shut with a groan and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. We're cool, right?"

Giorno nodded, smiling back. "Yes. And maybe we can talk opera sometime?"

Leone's expression changed again to something more surprised, maybe even a little softer than usual. "Yeah. Definitely."

Signore Bucciarati came to knock on the door before poking his head in.

"Giorno, are you all right with talking to Leone's father for a little bit?"

Giorno felt his stomach twist again, but nodded. "O-okay."

Bruno started to stand from his crouched position. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Giorno shook his head. "No, it's okay." Bruno had already seen his scars, but he didn't want his friend to know the details yet, if ever. He didn't want to relive them.

He followed Paolo out to the living room where a man stood in a dress shirt and slacks. He had silver hair like Leone's but cut short. His smile was a lot less sharp than his son's as he reached out to shake Giorno's hand.

"I'm Celso Abbacchio," he said. "Is it okay if we sit down and talk a little?"

Giorno nodded and they moved to the kitchen where Giorno sat across the table from the man and Bucciarati stood leaning against the counter, arms folded over his chest, a silent sentinel that gave Giorno courage. He recalled the man standing up to his stepfather back at the house and realized he'd never actually trusted anyone when they said they wouldn't let anything happen to him until that moment.

"Paolo was telling me that he wants you to stay here," Signore Abbacchio said kindly. "I'm going to try to get him guardianship of you until you come of legal age."

Giorno glanced over at the fisherman who's face softened slightly.

"You don't have to say yes, but the option is open," he said.

Giorno felt his eyes prick. "I would really like to stay here," he admitted sincerely.

Abbacchio smiled and then pulled out a notebook. "I'll need to make a case for it so if you feel up to it, could you describe the incidents in which your stepfather abused you? When it started?"

Giorno started off stilted, hesitant. He wasn't used to describing any of this or speaking about it at all. It was both harder and not nearly as hard as he expected it would be. He could sense the rage from Signore Bucciarati the more he described, and though Leone's father was obviously a professional, there was still a pinch between his brows when Giorno described some of the more brutal beatings he'd endured as examples.

He felt wrung out after he had finished and after taking down the names and address of Giorno's parents, Abbacchio put his notepad and pen back in his bag.

"Now, I know this is going to be uncomfortable, but it would be a good idea to get a doctor's witness statement on your injuries. Would you be willing to go to the hospital?"

Giorno wrapped his arms around himself, glancing slightly toward Signore Bucciarati to judge his opinion. The fisherman finally stepped in.

"He's had enough people poking him and asking questions," Bucciarati said firmly. "Can't you just take pictures of his injures? That's what they'd do at the hospital anyway. I'll act as witness if it's needed."

Abbacchio cocked his head to one side in acquiescence. "I suppose given the nature of the evidence we can make that work." He turned toward Giorno. "As long as that's okay with you?"

Giorno didn't want to do that either, but he also knew there would have to be some proof. Something Giovanna couldn't deny. He took a shuddering breath. "Okay."

"I'll get the camera I have in the car," Abbacchio said.

When he came back Giorno allowed him to take pictures of his face and arm and then his back as well as other older scars. By the time they were done, he was shivering from cold and tension and Signore Bucciarati gave him one of his sweaters to wear before pulling him into a hug that was both firm and gentle at the same time.

"It's over now, son."

Giorno's eyes were wet and several tears leaked onto the man's shirt before he pulled away.

"We'll get this sorted," Abbacchio said as he got ready to leave. "I'm going to push this through as fast as possible. I'll keep you up to date."

Bucciarati nodded. "Thank you."

The man nodded back and left.

Giorno felt completely wrung out and exhausted both emotionally and physically. Bruno's father pushed him toward the couch and Giorno slumped there as the man rummaged in the kitchen.

The others came out and sat with him, Bruno and Fugo sandwiching him on the couch before Paolo came back and surprised him with a cup of hot chocolate.

"Something sweet will do you good," he said simply.

Leone came over with his mobile phone in hand. "Trish wants to know if it's okay if she comes over."

Giorno sank further into the couch, leaning slightly against Bruno's shoulder. Exhaustion still pulled at him but he was feeling better being surrounded by the others. "Yes. I'd like to see her."

Leone finished the call and then slumped into the other chair. "Narancia was begging to come over too, but I spared you that."

Giorno smiled, but was honestly grateful. He really enjoyed Narancia's company, but was positive he would be too much right now. It was going to be hard enough going back to school to face the rest of his friends and classmates. He knew from Fugo's incident that rumors spread whether you tried to hide them or not, and he knew from his own experience that kids were cruel.

At least maybe he wouldn't miss so many days anymore, he thought wryly.

It wasn't long before the doorbell rang and Paolo let Trish in. Her eyes were red-rimmed as she headed over to the couch and Fugo silently shifted to make room for her. She collapsed next to Giorno, her arms instantly around him.

"Oh Giorno, I'm so glad you're out of there!" she sniffed. "I'm so sorry about all of this."

Giorno hugged her back briefly, not really knowing what to reply.

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked, pulling back and dabbing her eyes. "I mean, I'm sure Bruno and his dad have already done whatever needed to be done, but just let me know okay?"

Giorno smiled. "I'm okay, really. Just being here is okay."

Trish nodded and glanced toward the others who had built a sort of fortress around him, and it was then he realized, that he had never really understood what feeling safe with other people was like. Of not having to watch your back, or expect some sort of betrayal. Of knowing that you had people who would be there to help you up if you fell instead of just kicking you back in the dirt.

Something crumbled inside his chest, whatever wall had been guarding the last of his reservations and he felt himself suddenly strangled with emotion. For all the times he hadn't allowed himself to feel anything, all those feelings seemed to be coming back now and he could do little to stop them.

"Thank you," he managed to croak as he tried not to cry again. "I don't…just, thank you."

"Giorno you don't have to thank us, that's what friends are for," Bruno told him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

The tears finally leaked out and Giorno felt himself enveloped on all sides as everyone wrapped him in their arms. Even Leone joined the group hug after Trish practically dragged him in.

When they finally pulled away, Giorno shook his head. "Okay, enough crying. Can we please do something else?"

Trish sat back. "Well, retail therapy always works." She glanced at the others. "Can we please take him shopping for some new clothes?"

"Only if Giorno wants to go," Bruno said.

Giorno glanced down at his borrowed clothes and thought of just how little he wanted to wear anything he had brought with him or even see it again. He nodded. "I think that would actually be really therapeutic."

"Great! Let's go then," Trish exclaimed.

They all piled into Leone's car as he drove them to the mall. Giorno had never had so much money to spend all at once, let alone on clothes, so he felt a bit lost and overwhelmed at first. But the others were quick to help suggest things to him and Giorno soon found some things he genuinely liked, not just things he would wear because he didn't have anything else.

By the time they were done, Giorno had a whole new wardrobe, as well as a few other necessities that needed to be replaced, including shoes, now replaced by a pair of green high-tops.

As they all helped him carry his bags out, Trish pointed toward the food court. "I think it's time for some gelato."

It was the perfect finish for the day. They drove back late that afternoon, dropping Trish off at her house first before heading back to the coast.

Paolo had made a fish stew for dinner and Giorno ate two bowls of it before he practically crashed on the air mattress in the room he would now share with Fugo.

He didn't think he'd slept that well in years.

I might be taking 2 weeks off before starting to post Part 3 because I haven't gotten a lot of time to write the last couple weeks, but I'll be back with this sometime in June and I might have a one-shot going up during that time to tide you all over.

The next part will be Narancia and Leone centric with some amateur detective stuff thrown into the mix!

In the meantime, you can come chat with me on IG (ladyofinkandpaper) or Tumblr (lady-wallace). I always love to hear from you guys!