This chapter is a bit different, in that it has a framing device taking place in the present day. It also has (mild) spoilers for the end of Temporal Fates, so you're advised to finish reading that first.
5.19 pm
6 October 2013
Crisis Agent Division Office
Evan glanced at his partner as he typed away furiously on his computer, a scowl fixed on his face.
Giorgio had been in an extremely bad mood all week. At first, Evan had let the older man be, knowing that Giorgio was inclined to be moody at times.
However, it didn't seem as though Giorgio's emotional state was returning to normal anytime soon. Giorgio had been noticeably more irritable than usual, even by his standards, and Evan couldn't stay silent any longer.
"Gi?"
"What?" Giorgio snapped, slamming down on the Enter key as though the keyboard had personally insulted him.
Evan raised an eyebrow at his partner's agitated response. To his credit, Giorgio looked chagrined.
"My apologies. That was uncalled for," he muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "What is it?"
Evan hesitated for a moment, considering how to phrase his question. Asking "what's wrong" would probably put Giorgio on the defensive straight away, shutting down the possibility of further conversation.
Carefully choosing his words, he replied softly, "Something has been… bothering you recently. Is there anything I can do to help?"
At this, Giorgio averted his gaze, lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to keep his expression blank.
Leaning forward, Evan gently took hold of Giorgio's hand. "Hey. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But I want to help, however I can."
The older agent swallowed, looking torn between answering and fleeing the room. Evan just waited, squeezing his hand reassuringly.
After a long moment, Giorgio sighed. "I'm sorry. I know I've been… difficult to live with recently, even more than usual. The truth is…"
He hesitated, then seemed to steel himself.
"Tomorrow… it's the anniversary of… that incident."
It barely took Evan a second to realise what Giorgio meant.
The massacre of Giorgio's family… the incident which had left a deep scar upon Giorgio's psyche, shaping him into the person he had become…
Thinking back to the past few years, Evan tried to remember if Giorgio's behaviour during this time of year had held any signs he might have overlooked about his partner's distress. But then again, he wouldn't have noticed anything in the first year of his arrival, having only joined the VSSE a month prior and not interacting much with Giorgio at the time.
Even afterwards, once they became partners, there was still a limit to how much Evan could know about Giorgio. After all, he wasn't privy to the secrets Giorgio kept in his personal life. And Giorgio tended to be moody and brooding at times; Evan wouldn't have thought his prickliness to be anything out of the ordinary.
But now that he and Giorgio were together, it was almost impossible not to notice. He had seen more sides to Giorgio than he thought was possible. Giorgio was irritable and prickly, snapping at people who intruded on his personal space when he was in one of his moods.
Yet, he was also sweet and vulnerable, and utterly adorable with the way he seemed like a blushing maiden when it came to romance. Evan could see the difference now between Giorgio being in a brooding mood and Giorgio being genuinely upset about something.
"I never sleep well during this week," Giorgio continued when Evan didn't say anything. "And… on the day itself, I don't sleep at all. I know what I'll see in my dreams if I do. So I keep myself awake and occupied with work, until morning comes. Once the anniversary passes, I'll be fine until next year."
Evan bit his lip, knowing that Giorgio's definition of "fine" didn't exactly line up with what most people regarded as fine.
Misinterpreting his silence, Giorgio added, "Don't worry about me. You should go get some rest. I'd rather be productive than sit around with too much time to think."
Evan shook his head stubbornly. "If you're staying here to work, then I'll stay with you. You shouldn't have to be alone right now."
"Evan…" Giorgio sighed, and Evan could tell the older agent was about to refuse.
"We don't have to talk or anything if you don't want to," Evan insisted. "I know you don't want to think about it, but wouldn't it be easier to distract yourself with someone to keep you company?"
Giorgio hesitated, looking at him uncertainly. "I don't want to keep you stuck in the office all night for no reason though."
"Well, if you'd prefer, we could go back to one of our apartments and find something else to do," Evan suggested. "I'm sure we could think of something more pleasant to pass the time than trawling through paperwork."
At the look Giorgio gave him, Evan realised how that sounded.
"I didn't mean it like that," he quickly added, knowing Giorgio was definitely not in the mood for anything of the sort at the moment. "I just want to be here for you, Gi. Whatever you need."
Giorgio's expression softened slightly, and a wistful smile tugged at his lips. "I guess… that does sound better than just staying here. Thank you."
Giorgio's Apartment, VSSE Residential Wing
Though Evan had suggested going out for dinner to take his mind off things for a while, Giorgio wasn't in the mood to be around other people. Instead, they had returned to Giorgio's apartment, and Giorgio had cooked something simple for both of them.
"I think you missed your calling as a cook, Gi," Evan teased, trying to lighten the mood. "Where'd you learn to cook like this anyway?"
To his surprise, Giorgio's expression turned melancholic.
"I taught myself to cook when I was growing up," he replied after a moment. "To me, cooking was… In a sense, it's my way of keeping my mother's memory alive."
Evan's eyes widened at Giorgio's unexpected response.
The only thing Evan knew about Giorgio's past was the tragedy that wiped out his family. And even then, Giorgio had obviously not gone into detail about it. Aside from briefly mentioning it to Evan near the start of their partnership, Giorgio had never spoken about it again.
Although he was reluctant to pry into what was clearly a painful subject for Giorgio, Evan had to admit that a part of him was curious. Even though they were dating now, there was still a lot Evan didn't know about his partner.
Without saying anything, Evan gently placed a hand on Giorgio's shoulder, pretending not to notice the slight wetness to his eyes.
They sat in silence for a few minutes before Giorgio spoke again.
"What's your family like?"
"My family?" For a moment, Evan was surprised by the question, but he quickly realised that Giorgio simply wanted to talk about something else other than his own past.
"Pretty normal, all things considered. I'm an only child, although I've got a pretty large extended family."
Giorgio relaxed slightly, looking grateful that Evan was playing along with his change of topic. "What do they do?"
"We've made our living on the sea for generations, mostly as fishermen. You could say the sea is in my blood."
"Were you a fisherman too?" Giorgio looked at Evan curiously. Try as he might, he couldn't imagine his energetic partner in such a peaceful livelihood.
"I followed in my family's footsteps for a while. But I wanted to do something more than that. Something that would let me fight for those who couldn't protect themselves. So I joined the Coast Guard instead."
There was a fond grin on Evan's face as he reminisced.
"Of course, my parents were worried when I told them. I mean, fishing is actually a lot more dangerous than you might think, but being in the Coast Guard is on an entirely different level. They didn't want me putting myself in danger like that."
"But they could tell that I wouldn't be content just living a simple life. Well, as simple as braving the waves to catch fish ever gets, anyway."
"What is it they think you're doing now?" Giorgio gave Evan a contemplative look, knowing that their job was top–secret, and Evan would have been unable to tell his parents what he was really doing for a living.
His partner let out a soft laugh. "I told them I was recruited as a liaison for a joint assignment with an American government agency. Figured that was close enough."
At this, Giorgio nodded, seeing the logic in Evan's answer.
While the VSSE was an independent organisation, the fact that its headquarters was in the US made it easier for agents to simply claim they were doing classified work of some sort for the American government if they needed a cover story to deflect questions about their occupation.
Of course, while most VSSE personnel were still able to maintain some semblance of a normal life outside of work, the Crisis Agents were less fortunate in this regard.
Given the nature of their job, their lives effectively revolved around the VSSE. Even in their downtime, it was difficult to maintain relationships with family and friends who weren't privy to the details of their work.
It wasn't as much of an issue for Giorgio, of course. He hadn't exactly had anyone to leave behind when he joined the VSSE. But for someone as cheerful as Evan, who made friends at the drop of a hat…
"Do you miss them?" Giorgio asked softly. "Your family… your old friends…"
"Sometimes," Evan admitted with a sad laugh. "I haven't spoken to any of them in a while, to be honest. It's a bit sad, knowing that we've drifted apart. But… even so, I couldn't go back to my old life now."
"If losing contact with my family and friends is the price I have to pay for being able to fight for justice and make a difference… It's a sacrifice, but at the end of the day, I still think it's worth it."
"I've never heard you talk about them before," Giorgio commented. As soon as he'd said that, he winced, recognising the hypocrisy of his statement.
Great… I just had to dig myself deeper, didn't I?
Evan was kind enough not to point out the irony of such a remark coming from his notoriously secretive partner. Instead, he merely shrugged.
"You never asked. I figured I'd leave the topic alone unless you brought it up, so you wouldn't feel pressured to talk if you didn't want to."
Giorgio was silent for a moment. Almost unconsciously, long–buried memories began to float to the forefront of his mind.
His mother's gentle smile… The comforting taste of gnocchi, made with an abundance of love… The smoky yet familiar scent of his father's favourite cigar…
A sharp wave of nostalgia washed over him, mingled with sorrow. Giorgio forcefully shoved the memories away, pressing his lips together firmly as he tried to swallow the fresh tears threatening to spill over.
Evan simply leaned in closer to Giorgio, resting his head on Giorgio's shoulder.
"Your mother must have been an amazing cook, if your skills are anything to go by."
It was a wholly neutral statement. An offer to simply drop the topic, if Giorgio wanted to… and an offer to listen, if he wanted to talk.
And perhaps, he'd spent long enough running from his memories of the past.
Perhaps, talking to Evan might do something to lighten the weight of sorrow that he'd been carrying around for years.
"Do you… Want to hear about them?" Giorgio asked.
"Only if you want to tell me," Evan said firmly. "I'm not going to push you to talk if you don't want to."
Giorgio shook his head. "No… I think I've kept this to myself for long enough. I want to tell you, if you'll listen."
"I'm always ready to listen to you, Gi," Evan assured him.
"Alright then." Giorgio let out a breath. "I suppose I should start at the beginning…"
When you're a child and your world is still small, you don't question the things you're used to, no matter how abnormal they may be.
For all my childhood, I was a prince in a huge mansion with everything I could ever want. I was an only child, but I was never lonely, for the mansion was always filled with people.
There was my mother, with her kind eyes, gentle smile and superb cooking. Even now, I can remember her homemade gnocchi, and the way I could taste the love and care that went into making it with every bite.
My cousin Antonio was my closest companion, being a mere two years younger than me. He lived with my aunt and uncle in another wing of the mansion, and the two of us played together everyday. He was always smiling. I suppose I was too, back then, for I had no reason not to smile.
And, of course, there was my father, the head of our family. I remember the smoky scent of his cigar and his stern, impressive features. I rarely saw him, for he was always busy in his study, and I was rarely summoned to meet him. He was a hard man to impress, but that only made those rare smiles of approval all the more precious to me.
Aside from my family, we had a few maids, cooks and other housekeepers who kept the mansion in perfect order. Along with several armed bodyguards who accompanied us everywhere on the rare occasion that we left the mansion.
Antonio and I never left the mansion for school. Instead, we had private tutors who would teach us everything we needed to know. We were expected to keep up with our lessons and do well; if I did particularly well, my father would be informed, and I would be rewarded with one of his rare smiles.
I didn't know what my father's job was, but I knew he must have been a very important man. People were always coming in and out of the mansion, looking extremely nervous as they were summoned to the study to meet with my father. The few times I left the mansion, everybody was very polite and respectful when speaking to my father, and to all the rest of us as well.
It might seem strange to you that I didn't realise sooner, but this is all I had ever known. It didn't occur to me that this wasn't normal, or that there was anything extraordinary about my life whatsoever. It was paradise, and I basked in it.
But paradise can't last forever, and mine was about to shatter irrevocably.
I know you're familiar with where this is going, but I've only told you the barest details about what happened all those years ago. Whatever else you know about it is probably gleaned from me screaming in my sleep at night.
It's been years since I've allowed myself to think about this, let alone talk about it, but I've never truly stopped seeing it in my dreams.
That night, I was woken from a deep sleep by the sound of screaming and gunshots echoing through the halls of the mansion. Frightened, I huddled deeper under my blankets, trying to hide from the noise.
My room door opened at that moment, and my mother stepped inside. I could see that something was wrong; I'd never seen her afraid before. She told me to hide in the cupboard immediately and not come out until she told me it was safe to do so.
With a growing sense of panic, I did so, closing the door as quietly as I could. I heard my room door closing, but the screaming and gunshots were no quieter than they had been before.
My father had given me a small pocket knife as a reward for doing well in my lessons just earlier that week. Feeling around in the darkness, I retrieved the knife from its place in my cupboard and gripped it tightly, desperately wishing for the noises outside to stop.
I sat huddled in the darkness of the cupboard for hours, listening to the sounds of death. I was trying to be quiet, but I started crying softly at some point, wanting my mother to come in and tell me it was over.
As the sounds of chaos grew softer, a sickening smell filled the air. I didn't recognise it at the time, for I had no reason to know what it was, but I know now that it was the pungent odour of blood.
Somehow, impossibly, I must have fallen asleep at some point, for I was awakened by the sound of voices coming from somewhere outside my cupboard.
Fear gripped me anew, and I huddled as far back into the cupboard as I could manage, willing whoever was out there not to find me.
Then, my cupboard door slowly creaked open.
Panicking, I lashed out with my small pocket knife, slashing at whoever was there. I heard a yell of pain before a pair of hands grabbed hold of me, preventing me from struggling further.
"—calm down! Kid! I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise," someone shouted, shaking me.
(Yes, I'm translating this from Italian. No, I don't remember exactly what was said; I'm just giving you the gist of it.)
Blinking, I looked up into the eyes of a somewhat scary–looking man. A thin line of blood was running down his left arm, dripping onto his uniform; I realised I must have slashed at him while freaking out.
He looked a bit grumpy, but he had kind eyes, despite his gruff appearance.
"Who are you?" I asked.
The man took a step back, holding his hands up in a calming gesture.
"My name's Giovanni," he said. "I'm a police officer, and I'm here to help."
Peering out of the cupboard a bit, I saw another man dressed in uniform as well. Unlike Officer Giovanni, he was looking at me as though I was a repulsive insect.
"Quit coddling the brat already, Giovanni," he snarled. "Let's just get this over with."
"Shut up, Marco!" Officer Giovanni snapped. "Regardless of who his family was, he's an innocent victim."
"My… My family?" I asked tentatively. "Are they…?"
Officer Giovanni crouched down to look at me, shaking his head gently.
"I'm sorry, kid," he said quietly. "But you're the only one who survived."
I could feel myself beginning to cry, but just then…
"And good riddance too," Officer Marco spat.
"Marco, goddamnit!" Officer Giovanni shouted, but it was already too late.
I was crying harder now. Why was this officer celebrating my family's deaths when I was all alone in this world now?
But Officer Marco wasn't finished.
"Don't you know?" Officer Marco sneered. "Your family was a mafia family. That means they were criminals, and bad guys. And then, they ran into a group of bigger bad guys than them who wiped them out. Good riddance."
My blood froze as his cruel words spewed forth, and I almost felt my heart stop.
My family? Bad guys? It couldn't be!
"That's… That's not true!" I cried out. "You're lying!"
"Look what you did, Marco," Officer Giovanni growled. "What is wrong with you? He's just a kid!"
"Just a kid?" Officer Marco echoed. "Crime is in his blood! He's probably going to turn out just like his parents someday."
Officer Giovanni let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh.
"So, your plan is to treat a traumatised child who's just lost his entire family like he's a budding mafioso instead of trying to help him?" He commented sarcastically.
"That sounds like a fantastic idea. What could possibly go wrong? It's not like he could grow up angry and bitter and decide to just follow in his family's footsteps, right?"
Officer Marco shrugged. "Maybe we'll get lucky and the Valentinos will take care of him first. One less problem for us to worry about."
In the blink of an eye, Officer Giovanni grabbed Officer Marco by the collar, slamming him up against the wall.
"I swear to God, Marco… the captain is going to hear about this when we get back."
Officer Marco snorted. "Go ahead. He's going to agree with me, I can guarantee."
Releasing Officer Marco and shooting him one final angry glare, Officer Giovanni turned back to me, offering me his uninjured hand.
"Listen kid, what's your name?"
By this point, my tears had mostly dried up, though I was still sniffling a bit.
"My… My name is Giorgio," I stammered in reply.
"Giorgio… I know you're scared, but would you come with me? We need to check you out at the hospital to see if you're hurt anywhere."
I shook my head, crouching deeper back into the cupboard.
"That… That other officer… He doesn't like me," I whispered.
"He's an ass— I mean, a jerk," Officer Giovanni quickly corrected himself. "But I promise you, I'll keep you safe from him, and from anyone else who tries to hurt you."
He was still a bit scary–looking. But he'd defended me against Officer Marco, and he was being kind and patient with me even though I'd injured him.
"Alright," I finally said, taking his hand.
Officer Giovanni kept his promise. While I was in the hospital (the doctors wanted to do a check–up to make sure I was alright), he kept watch the entire time.
At one point, an older man also wearing a uniform came in. I knew they were talking about me because they kept glancing at me as they argued in hushed voices.
I caught a few words like "danger" and "protection" and "witness" from the older man, while Officer Giovanni angrily gestured to me and said something like "just a kid" and "innocent victim". Officer Marco's name came up a few times as well.
At length, as I was ready to be discharged, Officer Giovanni came over to where I was and asked if I wanted to come live with him.
He told me upfront that he wasn't exactly good with kids and wasn't the nicest person around, but he promised he would take care of me and keep me safe.
Despite him saying he wasn't nice, Officer Giovanni seemed to be the only nice person I'd encountered outside of my now shattered kingdom so far. And so, I agreed.
We moved across the country after that, and Giovanni officially adopted me. I took on his surname while I was growing up as an added security measure and was known as Giorgio Rossi for years.
(Yeah, if you check the records of my old life before the VSSE, you'll find records of me under the name Giorgio Rossi.
I only reclaimed my birth surname and became Giorgio Bruno again when I joined the VSSE.
Partly as a way of honouring my family's memory, partly to balance the ledger of their deeds by fighting for justice as a Bruno…
And partly to distance myself from my pre–VSSE life so that anyone trying to dig up information on me wouldn't find much.)
Giovanni never asked me to call him "father", for which I was grateful. I'd already had a father and lost him. To me, Giovanni was my guardian, but not a replacement for my father. So I just called him Giovanni.
It was only years later when I was older that I learned that Giovanni had basically requested a transfer far away from my hometown so that I wouldn't be recognised by anyone, especially the rival family that had wiped out my family. He'd essentially given up his decorated career to keep me safe.
Living in a world without my family was a huge adjustment, not just because of the obvious reason.
For the first time in my life, I went to school like everybody else.
As you can probably imagine, I wasn't exactly popular with the other kids. Being the new kid would have been bad enough, but when you consider the fact that I was moody and withdrawn and kept to myself…
I didn't get bullied, not really, but the other kids wanted nothing to do with me. Which was fine with me; I didn't want anything to do with them either. After losing everybody I'd ever loved, I was afraid of letting anyone new get close to me, for fear of having to go through that again.
As you can probably imagine, I also had a ton of nightmares.
It gave the neighbours a lot to gossip about: The police officer who'd just moved in recently, and his traumatised son who screamed at night sometimes like he was being murdered…
If not for the fact that Giovanni was a police officer, I'm sure someone would have called the police. As it stands, some of the more irate neighbours took to banging on the door and complaining whenever it happened.
For all that Giovanni insisted he wasn't good with kids, he tried his best, he really did. He was a bit hands–off with the way he raised me, but whenever I had nightmares, I'd always wake to find him by my side, awkwardly hugging me and trying to offer comfort.
He tried to get me therapy as well, but…
Well. There's a reason I don't like therapists very much.
It took a while to find a therapist I could go to, on account of the circumstances involved and whatnot. I was technically supposed to be flying under the radar, after all. But eventually, Giovanni found one who seemed trustworthy.
The first couple of sessions went alright. The therapist had me talk about what I remembered from the night my family died, and she taught me some coping methods to calm myself down after having nightmares.
But then, on our third session, I made the mistake of telling her about the other thing that was bothering me: Namely, what Officer Marco had said about my parents being criminals.
Her tune changed after that, and she told me I was wrong to remember my family fondly because they were bad guys.
I don't remember much of what happened after that. All I know is that I got very upset, and that the session was cut short, with Giovanni coming to pick me up.
I was crying almost as hard as I had in the aftermath of my family's deaths, and it took Giovanni ages to calm me down enough to get me to leave and go home.
Afterwards, at home Giovanni sat down and talked to me, asking what the therapist had said.
When he heard about what happened, his expression grew angry, just like it had been when he'd been arguing with Officer Marco months ago.
I told Giovanni that I felt guilty for still loving and missing my family, because everyone said they were bad people.
In response, Giovanni told me that I shouldn't feel guilty for that. Whatever else my family did, they genuinely loved me, and I didn't need to feel bad about remembering the good parts about them.
He also told me that my family's actions didn't define me, and that I didn't have to follow in their footsteps or let my past dictate the path I would take in life.
I felt better about that after hearing this, and my conflicted feelings seemed easier to untangle.
Thanks to Giovanni, nowadays I can acknowledge that my family were criminals, but they were also good people, or at least not entirely bad people, who loved me very much.
Naturally, Giovanni and I agreed I wouldn't go back to that therapist. He offered to find another one to help me, but I had already developed a mistrust of therapists, and I angrily refused to give therapy another try.
(…Yes, that's why things didn't work out when the VSSE offered me professional help soon after I joined. I went for the session because they told me to, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything.
No matter how good a therapist is, they can't do anything if the patient won't cooperate.
That said, our old therapist wasn't exactly good at her job either.
I know I was being unfairly uncooperative, giving one–word answers and eventually clamming up entirely, but the fact that she lost her temper and ultimately quit over one patient being difficult…
Well. Her temperament wasn't exactly suited to working for a place as chaotic as the VSSE.)
Years passed, and I grew up under Giovanni's gruff protection.
He worked long hours at the police station, and I eventually taught myself to cook so that he would have something to eat when he came home after his shift.
My grades in school were average at best; I'd been an excellent student under my private tutors years ago, but now, with my entire world turned upside down, I hadn't seen the point in trying hard.
Eventually, I came of age and decided to join the police force, just like Giovanni. I'd never forgotten how kind he'd been to me all those years ago, and I decided I wanted to try to protect people, just like he'd protected me.
My colleagues didn't really know what to make of me. I still tended to keep everybody at arm's length, and I wasn't particularly good at teamwork, as you can imagine. But I was good at my job, even though I was distant from everybody else, so they let me be.
Around the same time, Giovanni retired from the force. He'd been having heart problems over the last couple of years before that, and he was finally forced into retirement after he collapsed while chasing a criminal one day.
He passed away about a year after I joined the force.
The night before he died, he called me to his bedside and told me that he was proud of me, and that although he'd never said so before, he'd always thought of me as his son.
I realised at that moment that although I'd never referred to him as my father, Giovanni had become a second father to me over the years as well. And now, I was about to lose him too.
I cried and hugged him and thanked him for looking after me for all these years, and told him that I was glad he'd been my father.
He passed away peacefully a few hours later, free of the pain he'd been in for months.
"You know the rest after that," Giorgio finally concluded. "The VSSE recruited me a few years later in 2009, and the rest is history."
Evan had been silent the entire time as he listened to Giorgio's story.
"Do you ever go back to your hometown?" He asked.
Giorgio shook his head. "There was nobody left alive to bury my family, so I assume they were simply buried in unmarked graves by the authorities. The mansion is probably long gone too."
"I do go back to the town where Giovanni and I lived every year though," he said. "On the anniversary of his death, I go to his grave and pay my respects."
Evan slipped his hand into Giorgio's. "If you're not opposed to it, I'd like to go with you next year."
Giorgio gave him a small smile. "I'd like that, I think. I'm sure Giovanni would have approved of you. He wasn't the warmest person around, but he was always looking out for my well–being. He'd be happy to know I've found somebody I love."
"Can I ask you something else?" Evan said.
"What is it?" Giorgio looked at him curiously.
"When did you start wearing that earring?" He asked, gesturing to the lone earring on Giorgio's left ear.
Giorgio laughed a bit at that.
"I was experimenting with my style a bit in high school," he explained. "Giovanni didn't mind, and he encouraged me to be myself. I ended up liking the asymmetrical look of wearing just one earring."
"I should be asking you the same question, actually. When did you start wearing eyeshadow?"
He had always been amused by how neat and delicate Evan's eyeshadow looked. It must have taken years of practice for Evan to be able to apply it in such a professional–looking manner.
Evan laughed as well. "Same as you, experimented in high school. I liked the smoky look it gave me, so I kept it. I've practised enough over the years to be able to do it quickly in the mornings when I wake up."
Then, he sobered, looking at Giorgio seriously.
"One last question," he said. "You said you don't like thinking about your past. Then why do you cook?"
Giorgio blinked at him uncomprehendingly.
"Sorry?"
"You said that you learned to cook to keep your mother's memory alive," Evan pointed out. "That shows that at least some part of you wants to remember."
"I…" Giorgio began, before falling silent, realising he didn't have a response to that.
Evan gently slipped an arm around Giorgio's shoulders, rubbing his back comfortingly. "I think you don't really want to forget; you just don't want to keep hurting."
"But trying to forget isn't the right way. You know it hasn't really been working."
Giorgio swallowed, knowing Evan was right but not knowing what else he could do to stave off the pain of his memories.
"Gi… You've been incredibly brave, telling me all of this," Evan said softly. "Would you be willing to be brave for a bit longer and talk to Dr Fletcher about all of this?"
His first instinct was to say no, on account of his ingrained dislike of therapists.
"She's an excellent psychologist," Evan told him, seeing Giorgio's conflicted expression. "I can vouch for her personally."
"And besides, I think you've spent enough years carrying this pain around and trying to deal with it yourself. Don't you think it's time you tried being nicer to yourself and letting others help you start to heal?"
Giorgio was silent for a long moment as he thought it over.
He was still terrified of going to talk to a therapist, fearing that the bad experiences he'd had with them in the past would repeat themselves.
But at the same time, he knew that Evan was right. He had spent enough years having nightmares, pushing people away and being generally afraid of letting himself care about others.
He was alive, but he wasn't really living, with how he chose to shut his heart away.
And besides, it wasn't fair to Evan to let him shoulder the burden of Giorgio's emotional baggage all the time.
They were in a relationship now, and he wanted to get better, not just for himself but so he didn't have to lean on Evan so heavily anymore.
"…You're right," he finally admitted. "I'll go see her in the morning."
Evan pulled him in for a quick kiss. "I'm proud of you, Gi."
As Giorgio blushed and kissed Evan back, he found himself feeling tentatively hopeful.
For the first time in years, he let himself hope that he might finally be able to put the ghosts of his past to rest and find peace at last.
Notes:
1. As you can probably tell from the date, the framing device of this chapter takes place after the end of Temporal Fates.
To recap: Giorgio and Evan got together at the end of the Terror Bite incident, and this chapter is taking place 2 months later. Evan is still seeing Dr Hannah Fletcher, the VSSE's new psychologist, to unpack the trauma of watching Giorgio die in a previous timeline.
2. You might notice I used a very condensed version of this backstory in my AU oneshot Numbers.
You might also notice it doesn't match the version of Giorgio's backstory from A Ripple in Time. That's because I was borrowing from Lilium's backstory for Giorgio in that one, as I hadn't finalised my own version yet at the time.
3. Giovanni's characterisation was vaguely inspired by fanon depictions of Hank Anderson from Detroit: Become Human (grizzled cop who's gruff but protective, basically).
