Sophie really liked Ian, he was so nice and helpful and cute. And he had a car to make her batteries work again.
"And you are sure you want to spend the night here, without electricity?" he asked while connecting Soph's Batteries to the one of his car.
Soph sat on the stairs to her caravan again, thoughts more occupied with the phone call she was about to place in a few minutes than with her surroundings.
What If he wouldn't answer the phone? What if the phone call would get them into trouble? What if she would get to hear that things aren't alright? What if-
"Sophie!" Ian's voice made her cringe and loose balance, flailing her arms couldn't save it either so she ended up beside the stairs in the grass.
"I am sorry" he said when he got over to help her, but she had already sat up with a wave of her hand towards him: "It's fine, not your fault."
When she got up and checked herself for that she probably fell into sheep shit, he sighed and rubbed the back of his head, one hand on his waist: "I just … I just think it wouldn't hurt you to sleep one night at our house."
She raised an eyebrow: "Because I have no electricity."
"Because you seem troubled. I mean, I saw you sitting on the meadow the whole day and … That's it."
Soph stopped patting the dirt off her bum and looked at him: "Wait, wait wait, how do you know that I sat outside all the time …?"
"I went for a walk with Lady this morning and then later again and you still sat there like a bump on a log" he explained.
Soph exhaled relieved, before she started giggling, slightly blushing as well: "Oh! That makes sense! Oh dear lord, I … I was so stupid, damn it" she said a bit confused and more to herself but before she could carry on her monologue he added:
"And it really makes me wonder what thought could keep you busy like this. I am a bit worried, to be honest."
"Ian, I am … I didn't think you would worry for me. I mean … Sorry. It's just one of these days. They'll pass, just wait until my brother calls!" she ended with a fat grin and Ian smiled, not a happy one though.
"Oh I see. Then I'll … I'll just take care of the batteries" he said with a now bashful smile and went back to work but turned around one last time, Soph already having her phone in her hand: "When will he call?"
"Uh, every minute! I'd like to have a talk with him in private, so I'll go to sheep okay? I'll be back soon!" were her last words before she disappeared behind the corner of her caravan – only to peek around one more time: "And if you are done with the battery don't bother waiting, you know. It is pretty late already and I don't want to steal your time any further."
She smiled: "Thank you for fixing, too."
"No problem" he murmured with a faint smile when she was already on her way to the stable, the footsteps sounding like soft thuds on the ground.
She almost ran into the door, too nervous to even focus only on gross motor skills, opening the stable door took her three tries as well and the moment she stumbled in and slammed the door shut, her phone slipped out of her hand, making her let out a frustrated, muffled scream accompanied by panicked wiggling of her arms and hands.
"Please didn't go out, please didn't – OH THANK GOD!"
Not caring that a few of her sheep were now baaing, she wiped the dust off the device and unlocked the screen, directly going into the contacts of her phone and hitting Charlie's number.
But instead of pressing it to her ear she only stared at it.
'Dialling' it said on the screen right beside 'His Gayesty', how she had written him in her phone, and above the picture of him from last Halloween when he had dressed up as pharaoh mummy.
She should have put him on speaker to hear him, she should have hit decline, should have done something instead of just staring down at the phone, her head completely empty.
Well, not completely empty. Not empty at all. The corners of her mind filled up with thoughts, whispering things she couldn't make out, she simply knew they were there.
You got them in trouble. You shouldn't have done this. You risked something, your fault, you put them into danger, risk, death.
It took her a second to realize that her call had been answered and the fear of not knowing won over the mess in her head.
"Soph?" she heard Charlie's words, honestly concerned but also stressed, when she put the phone to her ear.
"Charlie!" she managed to spit out. "Are you all okay?!"
"Oh Soph, of course we are, of cou - OUCH!"
Not only did she hear some things or people bumping into something, but also the groan of another deep, familiar voice.
"Was that Paddy?" she asked hopefully, clenching her other hand into a fist to somehow control the adrenaline flooding through her body. "Where's Harry?"
"Harry's a little unavailable at the time, sheep" Charlie explained. "And so are we actu – OH BLOODY HELL – we are busy too, will call you back when we got time, okay? Thank you sunshine, bye" were his last words, being said rushed and somewhat relieved.
"No, don't go" she whispered but received no answer and with a frustrated moan she put her phone down before ending the call as well and sitting down on the stairs to the hayloft, not knowing if she should start screaming or crying.
"I wanted to be comforted by this call! I wanted to hear everything's alright!" she said in a brittle voice, one hand pinching her hair, the other only pressing her phone against her head, teeth grid and eyes squeezed shut.
"I didn't want to feel like I've been lied to! I didn't want have such blurry answers!"
She stopped pulling and pressing, just staring at the ground and croaking: "I just wanted to feel safe, I just wanted you to be safe and I just wanted to be … sure."
But now she was left here on her own, confused and even more worried, and somehow doubting she would get any sleep tonight.
Unless …
Her feet still made soft thudding sounds with every step but it took her so much longer to get to the caravan than it had to get her to the stable.
Ian sat on the stairs when she finally got there, phone still in her hand and a sad look on her face.
"Can I sleep at your house? Is the offer still open?"
"I don't have to be straight to shoot straight."
Charlie's words were the only audible thing beside Robert's pained wheezes and hisses, he was writhing on his knees and blood was dripping from his now half torn away ear.
Charlie made a few steps forward, putting his gun back in the holster after he locked it and the Englishman only stared at him, eyes wide open, filled with hatred and anger. One hand on his ear, he tried to reach for the Irish with the other but had to curl it into a fist instead, his body trying to cope with the pain.
Charlie slightly bent down to him, staring right into Robert's eyes with an equal amount of rage in his: "And don't you dare to say I have a shitty aim again. This was a warning shot."
He kicked away the gun, which had fallen out of Robert's hand, and leant in even closer to him:
"I want you to remember it! I want it to hurt!"
He grabbed Robert's collar and said in a steady, low voice: "I want everyone to see what happens when one can't stop talking narrow-minded bullshit!"
The fingers dug harder into the fabric and he was so close, Robert actually attempted to get a bit more space between their faces, even raised his hand but Charlie slapped it away that the sound of it resounded in the empty hallway:
"A warning shot. May it warn everyone who happens to know us two that I am not one to fuck with."
"You can actually knock him out" Lorenzo hummed amused from the other end of the hallway and Charlie cocked an eyebrow, still looking the English in the eyes.
"We don't need him anymore, so if it brings you pleasure, go on" Marco added, making the Irishman grin like a cat now.
"Bloody arsehole" Robert managed to hiss at him before gritting his teeth again and Charlie let go, standing up straight, swinging his leg and kicking the other man particular hard into the stomach.
"Then lead us, gentlemen" he said happily and carefree, picking up the gun on his way over to the Sicilians when Paddy came out of the small room beside Robert. Charlie hadn't noticed him going inside until he spoke up:
"You have a little aggression problem, don't you Robert?" he asked after coming back into the hallway, Laptop under his arm and a knife in his hand.
"Tell that your puppy who just shot me, O'Neill" Robert coughed out for a reply as he got his feet again. He leant against the wall with his hand still on his ear, the other on his stomach.
"The 'puppy' just did what was fair! Isn't it my fault that you are all bark and no bite!" was Charlie's share to the conversation and Paddy wanted to add something, playing with the knife in his hands -
"Wait, where do you got this from?!"
But jumped when the twins yelled synchronously across the hallway and he looked at them in surprise: "The knife?"
"That's Michele's!" Lorenzo stated and both of the Sicilians glared at Robert, who was still troubled enough by the pain, yet managed to throw back an annoyed look:
"Fucking guess, you brats. Want to keep 'em as souvenir? Can stick 'em on his grave instead of flowers – if you even will have a grave."
The first hit was aimed at his face and you actually had to give Robert credit for blocking that because the twins had made the few meters over to him incredibly fast and he even could prevent the hit Marco tried to land his stomach – but he didn't pay attention to Lorenzo kicking him in the crotch.
"Ouch" Charlie let out while the twins got the other knives from the room, Paddy having already given them the one he had.
"He did deserve it after all" was the growled response from the two and Charlie felt like kicking the moaning Englishman lying on the ground to emphasise his following words but was clever enough to not do it, fearing he'd pull some sort of power back up because of his anger:
"I did not say that he didn't deserve it, I am simply saying – Ouch."
"And I swear to god, Signore Higgins!" Lorenzo started when he quickly made it out of the room and past the two Irishmen, followed by Marco:
"If you don't stop with stupid flirting, you are next! And now get going!"
"Don't threat me with stuff like that, you don't want to damage what you might need later" Charlie murmured annoyed under his breath, quickly following them and Paddy. But when he was just about to go around the corner, he heard Robert's dirty, yet a bit sore laughter and simply had to turn around.
"What is it, arsehole?!" he shouted, voice as pissed off as before and the Englishman, who had managed to sit up by now, although bending over because of his injuries, just grinned onto the floor; it was not a pretty grin for sure, more like pained grimacing:
"As if you would still have a chance. You just don't know how to handle these kinds of situations, you bloody beginner. Can't you fucking hear how your time is running out? Tick tock, tick tock … You have already wasted too much by shooting me in the first place."
Now he managed to look at the other and Charlie had to gulp, yet still being enough in his mind to resist Paddy trying to get him away.
Blood ran down on the left side of Robert's face and he looked like the Cheshire cat, something like cursed- and probably even madness in the dark, deep, blue eyes:
"Who said that it wasn't the plan from the start to distract you so that your boss dies in the meantime?"
Before Charlie's brain could process a thought regarding this other than I fucked up, I ruined it all, Paddy pulled him close with his free hand and looked him right in the eyes:
"Charlie! You heard him so GET – GOING!"
And even though the older man had to drag him for a few steps, he snapped out of his paralysis, starting to run down the stairs on his own and looking for the twins.
"I hope for them that they don't leave without us!" he called and grabbed the edge of the corner to get around it quicker, jumping down the last steps and over one of the now tied up English, who were guarded by the Sicilian subordinates. It was also one of the subordinates who made a surprised, actually almost scared face when Charlie tossed him Robert's gun with the warning: "Careful, it's not locked!"
"If they did, then we'll just steal a damn car" Paddy snarled and Charlie turned around while running, knowing the front door was lying ahead and the sudden change of ground would probably make him fall:
"GTA Style, heh? Should work since the whole city already drives like they're in a video game without rules."
"But I am driving because we are actually not in some game and can't just restart if -" Paddy started but the younger one ran out of the door and fell onto his back, making a backward role on the ground, ending up on his face and knees – right in front of Marco, who already sat behind the wheel of one of the estate cars their men had driven to get here.
The Sicilian cocked an eyebrow, his face having a kind of impressed look:
"That was fucking clumsy, but nice bum you got there."
Charlie had already lifted his head from the ground when he heard that and stayed, surprised by these words.
Then he beat hard on the ground with an open hand, turning his head around and pointing at him now, yelling:
"Back pockets, my arse! I fucking knew it!"
He jumped on his feet, quickly patting the dust of his legs and adjusted his jacket and hair before scowling at Marco, who only rolled his eyes: "Don't lie to me, just tell me the truth from the start, that makes it easier for both of us."
"It would make it easier for all of us if you would get your pretty bum inside this damn car!" Lorenzo bellowed from the passenger seat and Charlie would have pouted again if he wouldn't have immediately realised in what situation they were in.
"He's right, get in that comfortably big car" Paddy said like a little child whose wish had been nothing but this car before opening the back door and getting inside, putting the Laptop beside him while Charlie ran around the estate and getting inside as well.
As soon as the doors were closed, Marco hit the gas and the car leaped forwards again, the tyres soon getting a grip on the sandy ground. Within seconds they were back on the actual, yet not really good street and Charlie leant forward to the two:
"Where are we going and how did you two find out where Harry and Vento are?"
"We just", Marco started and the two grinned at each other, "kindly asked one of the English" Lorenzo finished.
"And gently pressed a gun against his head or caressed his throat with a knife, of course" the Irish commented amused while buckling up.
"Exactly. We made him ask his colleague over the headset where he is" Lorenzo explained and Paddy frowned:
"So there are English where the bosses are at as well?"
"Yes, but why are you asking?" Marco replied. "Who cares if there are more of them. Because who gets in our way now, so close to the goal, better made his last prayer anyways."
Charlie crossed his legs and looked out the window when the older Irish sighed:
"I agree." He cracked his knuckles and you could hear the change of mood in his voice if you listened closely: "I really didn't make it this far to save that boy's arse to be hold up by a few more of those wimps."
"Nice spirit, old man" Charlie grinned, glancing over to him and Paddy only grinned back when the other's phone rang and with a surprised look he got it out of his pocket.
"Soph? Why is Soph calling me?" the younger one murmured confused under his breath, not catching Marco warning "Buckle up, it's gonna get turbulent from here" and answering the call instead.
"Soph? What's it?" he asked, still mentally going over every reason she could have to call him. That no sound came from the other side wasn't a good sign as well, what if–
"Soph?" he asked again, concerned and stressed, luckily getting an answer now:
"Charlie! Are you all okay?!" she said hurriedly and it was all Charlie needed to calm down.
"Oh Soph, of course we are, of cou – OUCH!" He had to end his sentence midway when they got thrown around again due to Marco's driving style and the demolished roads.
"Oh goddammit, I need a bloody chiropractor when all of this is over!" Paddy groaned, looking for the seat belt and having one hand on the laptop, which almost fell to the car floor.
"Was that Paddy?" Sophie asked hopefully after Charlie had put the phone to his ear again, so glad it didn't fall as well. "Where's Harry?"
"Harry's a little unavailable at the time, sheep" Charlie answered, looking at the older man whose eyes were filled with concern, just like his own.
"And so are we actu – OH BLOODY HELL – we are busy too, will call you back when we got time, okay?" Without waiting for a reply he ended the call with "Thank you sunshine, bye."
"Oh Sophie" Paddy sighed quietly. "Oh poor Sophie…"
"Who was that?" Lorenzo said while Charlie put his phone back in his pocket.
"None of your business" the Irish gave back in a cold voice. "Where are they and when are we gonna be there."
"Five minutes, ten at most, who is this Soph?" Marco repeated and Charlie grit his teeth, being slightly fed up.
"Somebody to who Harry means a lot. And the other way around, so would you just please concentrate on driving this fucking car."
The twins exchanged a look which the other two couldn't quite file but then Marco nodded and engaged the next gear:
"Of course."
Their route was mainly through smaller streets and the Irish also noticed that the traffic was much more acceptable around this time. Paddy paid a look to his watch.
"Shortly after eleven pm" he mumbled and breathed out deeply, suddenly feeling tired even though the job wasn't done yet. Harry was still in grave danger and they still had to save him. He didn't even waste a thought to the option that he might be dead by now, thoughts like these were only counterproductive. He rather thought about the young woman back at home, worried about her brother, and about the young man somewhere, trying to stay alive at all costs. He imagined how Sophie would smile once they'd come home and how Harry would laugh once he was back, both carefree as always.
He thought about the two children he had promised to keep safe and that was motivation enough for not slacking off yet.
"Get ready, we're almost there" Lorenzo brought him back to reality and Paddy yawned quietly, looking over to Charlie and realized just now how quiet the younger one had been during the ride. He was gazing out of the window, one hand on his gun and the other over his chin and mouth, resting his head on it.
"Charlie?" he asked quietly and the other looked, eyes half lidded:
"Hm?"
"Are you okay?"
"Sure."
"Are you ready?"
Charlie smiled faintly: "Sure."
"Tired?"
Charlie grinned faintly: "Sure."
Paddy laughed low and gently boxed his shoulder: "Stay awake for a bit longer, will you?"
"Same goes for you" Charlie countered when the twins stopped in front of a metal fence and when the four got out of the car, the salty smell of the sea hit them with full force.
"Didn't Robert say something with drowning?" the younger Irish mumbled. "And aren't we at the harbour here?"
"Were at a warehouse at the harbour" Lorenzo corrected while Marco was already jogging along the fence, trying to find a gap or gate.
"Did they rent that?" Paddy wondered when Marco yelled "Found it!" a few metres away from the three.
"Apparently not" Lorenzo grinned when they walked over to his brother who stood in front of a part where the metal net that made up the fence was lacking.
"They broke in and were stupid enough to leave it open, great, thank god for the stupidity of these British idiots" Charlie grinned, making it inside first, quickly walking over to the building while the others followed him.
"Wait, wait wait wait, blokes" Paddy spoke up and Charlie, who already was climbing the stairs to the door of the warehouse with the joyfully said words "Oh boy, I hope they left the door open as well", turned around to look at him.
"Do you hear that? The sound of a –"
They heard somebody tripping, falling and swearing around the next corner of the building.
"Idiot. I wanted to say of a motor but that was clearly the sound of an idiot" Paddy ended his sentence, sounding kind of done with the situation, when the twins already sprinted past the two: "We'll take care of this, you take care of the door!"
"Sounds fair" Charlie mumbled and opened his suit jacket, pulling out a lock pick – then checking if the door was locked in first place, which was the case.
"Okay, then let's do this" he said, inserting the pick in the lock while the older Irish got the gun from the holster, staring at the corner and listening to the noises coming from there. He could still hear the motor – or a pump? – but also footsteps and fighting noises, curses and – a gunshot, which made his heart skip a beat for a second just like the two in the building had made him cringe. Gunshots always had that effect on him, especially when he couldn't see them; a bullet was able to decide over a mission's outcome after all. And a lot more.
And that he heard something falling into the water and something way heavier right after wasn't giving him a better feeling about the situation either.
"Could you hurry up Charlie? Please?" he said and Charlie sighed stressed: "I am trying, I am trying."
Some footsteps were coming closer and Paddy now put the gun up, aiming straightforward when a man in shirt and suit trousers came around the corner, a gun in his hand as well. He was tall, 1,90 m probably, but slim and already panting.
"Oi!" Paddy yelled and the man stopped and instinctually put his gun upwards, pointing in the direction the sound came from, but his eyes widened and his hands began to shake when he actually paid a look at the man who yelled at him.
"What's it?" the Irish asked bored, having noticed the lighter sound of the twins running.
"Come and have a go if you think you're hard enough."
Charlie frowned and the man decided that he clearly wasn't hard enough when one of the twins kicked him off his legs anyways and he fell to the ground, not moving once he was lying.
"I think you just accidentally kind of quoted one of our favourite book characters" Charlie commented and Paddy frowned while the Sicilians were checking whether the English guy was dead or not, rolling him on his side.
"Unconscious but alive" Marco stated and Lorenzo threw the gun of him into the harbour.
He continued to frown when he turned to them: "What fell into the water earlier?"
"The colleague of the knocked out beanpole and his gun" Lorenzo grinned like a child who just pulled a successful prank.
"And when he crawled back out, we easily could knock him down and tie him up, just like this one here" Marco added with the same face as his brother.
"Tie him up with what?" Paddy asked sceptically.
"With a great pun" they said synchronously, pointing at their collars and it was just now that the Irish noticed their lacking ties.
"Wow. Clever guys. What about the motor?"
Marco: "Pump, that was it. Pumping water into the building."
Lorenzo: "It was old and it's strange it worked at all but we turned it off."
Paddy thought about it for a second and nodded when Charlie let out a happy "Hah!", turning to the three downstairs with a grin on his face, before pushing down the door handle and slamming the door open.
The sound of water splashing came from inside.
"Fuck the English and fuck this damn box!" Harry ranted while kicking upwards again, his foot meeting wood, which was pretty unimpressed by that.
Michele snuffled, exhausted already but pleased with the fact that the cute Irish was sitting between his legs. That they had come up with that solution only after both of them had almost kicked the other in the face several times was the not so pleasant part about it, just like their plan to simply destroy their prison wasn't as easy as the two had hoped.
But it was the only thing they could do at all, so he pulled his leg out of the still incoming water, so high by now half of the box was filled, and tried as well but all he did was stubbing his toes for the he didn't know what time.
"How about we just wait for help?" he muttered frustrated, putting his arms around the other's waist, who was so surprised by it that he stopped hitting the top with his elbow, and pulled him closer.
"They'll come and save us and all is well. I trust my boys" he said and nodded, totally satisfied with his brilliant solution, and Harry put his hands on the Sicilian's, shoving them away abrasively:
"Really Michele? That's your plan, stay here and just hope not to drown?"
He continued to work on the wood with his elbows but didn't move away from Michele, god knew why because the Irish didn't.
"I am just putting trust into my family, you should, too" Michele countered and Harry rolled his eyes, putting his hands on the other's knees to relax his arms for a short time:
"If I am dying in here, Soph will never let me hear the end of it and she is annoying enough when she is not mad at me."
He sighed and started to kick upwards again, moving away from the Sicilian: "And if Charlie saves me, finding out I sat in here waiting for them like a damsel in distress, he'll never let me here the end of that, which is bloody unacceptable."
Michele laughed loudly: "You have funny reasons to stay alive, Harry."
"I have practical reasons to not give up fighting" was the short answer. "And didn't you admit that you haven't been very professional? You can start making up for it with helping me getting out of this DAMN THING! OH COME ON!" he shouted, throwing punches against the upper side of the 'damn thing'. "You bloody English wankers can't properly tie us up but of course, this fucking shitty box is made out of titanium!"
Michele only sighed, letting his hands sink into the water again, wincing as his cuts burned. But when his fingers touched the ground, he got an idea.
"Harry, Harry, Bello, come here" he babbled and tried to grab his arms, which took him two tries of fishing for them in the dark, but in the end he was able to guide his hands to the ground with the nice bonus of putting his own hand on Harry's. Could one count this as holding hands? The Sicilian did and moved on to telling what he had just discovered: "Do you feel that?"
"Wet wood, the discovery of the century, great Michele, wow, cookie for y-"
"Try to scratch it."
Harry sighingly did, his nails scraping the wooden floor, leaving bumps in it –
"Okay, what's the plan, turning the box around and working on the floor?" he asked snickering and Michele smiled at that. Yes it sounded nasty and wrong but he liked it. Because most of all, it was full with love for life.
"I must correct myself, I guess" he said quietly and Harry frowned: "What the hell, we just – "
"No, not about the box, I'll help turning it around in a second, I have to correct myself about you. That wasn't fire in your eyes, it was … wow, I can't even find words to define that" he sighed amused. "But I think sunshine comes closest. Nothing so raging and devouring as fire, but heart warming and peaceful sunshine."
"That was so … yeah, so fucking sappy I have no words" Harry spit out and Michele grumbled:
"Call it whatever you want, I am not denying that you need a flaming sun for a sweet sunshine, so just let us use your fiery determination to get out of this box."
He made a face: "Eww, I admit that I sound awfully much like a bad romance novel."
"Admitting your faults is the first step towards self-improvement" the Irish said and was prepared to finally turn this box around, but not for the Sicilian suddenly kissing his neck.
"You're right, I should just say that I maybe fell in love with you" Michele whispered and Harry felt the blood rush into his head again, the clear thoughts entirely disappearing from his brain, everything one single mess up there now.
Fell in love …? Fuck, don't do this to me! My body's acting crazy anyways, I am puzzled why I am not angry with you touching me like that, god, just stop! Not in a situation like this! Not somebody like you! I am not questioning my sexuality in a fucking wooden box, where I was left to drown, because of an obnoxious Sicilian!
"I am flattered that you are stunned like that by my words, but you wanted to get out of the box, bello?" Michele interrupted this mental train wreck.
Harry shook his head and rubbed his neck, accidentally elbowing the other in the face:
"Ou."
"Sorry. But yeah, I want to get out of this box, Romeo, so would you be kind enough to lean against the right side with all your weight? Because if you didn't notice, the water almost reached our chests by now."
"Huh, right, better hurry up then. I count to three, then we'll do it."
"Good – wait" Harry stopped. "Let me sit down on the other side again, will be more effective if I don't sit … between … your legs" he ended that sentence fast after shaking his head again, trying to get rid of any thoughts regarding the Sicilian and feelings. He could deal with that or bury it in the deepest and most abandoned corners of his mind after they got out of this, so he just crawled back to his original place and sat down, his legs bent that they didn't lie between the other's.
"I'm ready" he said and Michele nodded:
"One … two … three!"
Both of them threw their bodies against the wooden planks right to them but the only thing it caused to move was the water.
"Again" Harry coughed after he had spit the water out that had gotten in his mouth, his fringe now sticking to his face like the hair at the back of his head already did.
The saltwater made his wound from the knocked out tooth burn sharply.
"One … two … three!"
This time Harry leant to the other side first to gather momentum, internally cursing that it was so hard to move in this thing, then rammed his shoulder against the wood – and he felt it tipping.
"Once more! Oh boy, I can't believe this is working!" Harry cackled happily and leant to the side already: "One, two, three!"
And the box tipped again, but it didn't tip over.
"Don't be too happy, we have to be quick once we turned it around" Michele said, trying to lower the other's mood a bit. "We only survived this long anyways because the water stopped from time to time, letting air into the box. And we don't want to suffocate, now do we?"
Although he couldn't see the other, he literally felt Harry's unimpressed stare for a few seconds before the other looked away:
"If death comes to get me after I made it this far, he can kiss my bloody arse" was his answer, a grin swinging within and Michele had to laugh again.
Maybe? I fell in love like a teenage boy, maybe my ass. If we're going to get out of this alive, I swear, I won't hold myself back.
"Okay, get ready" the Sicilian sighed relieved, leaning to the other side as well this time:
"One … two … three!"
They threw themselves against the box's wall and this time, it tipped over, the water inside going crazy and burying them since they laid on their sides now.
After they had managed to sit up again, puffing and blowing out the horribly tasting liquid, the two definitely looked like strays left in the rain but they didn't care; Harry's body was flooded by adrenaline because their plan worked and Michele had been infected by his good mood, not caring that the air was something they shouldn't waste when their laughter, and coughing as soon as the water got in their mouths, filled the box.
"Eureka!" the Irish cried out, putting his hands over his eyes and choppily breathed in a few times.
"All good things come in twos, are you okay Harry?" the Sicilian giggled, sweeping a wet streak of hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear.
Harry nodded and it took him a bit to realise that the other couldn't see that, therefore adding a "Of course, what about you? Ready to get out of here?"
"Sí. One … two … three" he counted once again with his deep, yet so soft voice and the other blamed the lack of oxygen and the overdose of hormones in his body for having thoughts like that it was the most beautiful voice he had ever listened to, leaning to the left again for gaining momentum.
It only took them one try this time, the waves of the water breaking over them again and Harry choked on it, having serious trouble catching his breath this time.
"You should have shut your mouth" was Michele's only comment and the Irish was about to snap at him for it but realised early enough that he had referred to the coughing fit.
"Whatever. Now we only need to break the top and there we go. Free at last."
"Sure."
Harry furrowed his bushy brows: "Sure? Is something wrong?"
Michele shook his head: "Don't want to waste air. Let's do this."
But instead of doing this, they just sat there in silence and the Sicilian felt the weight of it again, heavy on his chest and temples. The thought of closing his eyes was enticing, the thought of resting for a few minutes, but he knew that there was no time for that in reality. Although it would give him way more motivation if the Irishman wouldn't be silent as well and Michele wondered if he had similar things going through his head.
He sort of took it as a yes when a quiet "Fuck, I am tired" slipped from Harry's lips and he laughed. It was a small laugh, it was a weary one and it was one that only broke you down a tad more.
But water was splashing again and Michele stared surprised in the dark, the other's breath speeding up audibly.
"Tired of sitting in this box" the Irish snarled and the sound of something heavy against wood chased the silence away.
"Boy, much more comfortable" he grinned, kicking forcefully against the top once more and even if it sounded ridiculous, creaking wood was a heavenly noise to the two men.
"I-It works! Oh it works!" Michele laughed, weird but soothed this time, and Harry cackled, hearing the other whispering in Italian, a prayer or just a little talk to himself probably.
"It didn't work until we broke it o-" he started but the foot of the Sicilian already crashed against the box, and the Irish broke into uncontrolled giggling.
"Jesus Christ, I think I am slowly losing my mind" he snorted during half-heartedly placing a kick while Michele unsuccessfully tried to use his shoulder, successfully and accidentally bumping his head though.
"Can't deny that the last minutes in here have been quite an emotional rollercoaster ride, bello" he chuckled while rubbing his head and for a few seconds Harry allowed himself to get messed up in the head again, the words I maybe fell in love with you echoing inside.
"I think I have more adrenaline in my body than an Olympic finalist, yeah" he sighed happily and looked upwards. Just one more hit, he just needed to raise his arm once more and let his elbow hit the soaked planks and they'd be free, he'd be alive and could wrap his arms around Sophie once more when they were back in Ireland, just one more –
Without realising it, Harry had just cracked the top open and mindlessly he kept going, one hit and bursting wood, two hits and bursting wood, three hits and bursting wood, more water coming from above. And exactly that was what let the Irish snap out of his paralysis.
"Quick! Don't stop, help me, we need to rip the planks away before the-" box is filled up was how Michele wanted to end the sentence when water got into his mouth and he decided that getting out of here was more important than telling the other to do it.
His fingertips ran over the top, finding the spot where the Irish had managed to crack it open and pressed upwards, first his hands then his arms and at last his entire upper back, feeling his lungs starting to burn and wishing to spit out the water in his mouth but it had reached his throat on the outside by now and he knew it would be pointless. He could take a deep breath once he was out of here.
But suddenly the wood felt so strong and hard and with every second he felt weaker, unconsciousness sneaking up closer and closer to him …
Michele Vento, most important Mafia Boss of whole Sicily, dying right in front of the finish line. This was so stupid he would have screamed if he wouldn't be suffocating and couldn't care less about everything including his surroundings.
He didn't notice that the pressure on his upper half got lifted at first, he didn't really notice anything until somebody grabbed his collar, pulling him upwards and slapping him.
While the Sicilian was now choking on the water he had swallowed due to this, Harry panted and looked at him, his eyes starting to make out schemes again in the pale moonlight falling through a window.
"Did we … did we make it?" Michele coughed dry and the Irish smiled: "Yes… Yeah, we are not about to drown anymore. I guess that counts as making it."
For a few seconds they just sat there and looked at each other, getting used to being able to see something again.
"God, we need to get out" Harry suddenly said and 'jumped' on his feet – only to lose balance when he was standing and falling over the edge of the box into the tank they apparently had spent the last hours in.
The Sicilian burst in laughter when he heard a door scratching over the floor and turned his head around to look at where the sound came from, grabbing the box edge and lifting himself up, still holding onto it so he wouldn't fall like Harry.
The person appearing in the door frame, lighted by a street lamp and the moon, looked familiar to him so it couldn't be one of the English. No, it clearly was one of Harry's Bodyguards, the smaller one with the messy-on-purpose hair.
Speaking of Harry and messy hair, his ginger one was sticking to his head and water was running down his skin when he put his hands next to the other's, the green eyes almost glowing in the dark, a nice fair contrast to his red cheeks and forehead, although they were half lidded while he tried to steady himself.
I won't hold myself back.
"You look like you're short of breath" Michele whispered and leaned in a closer to the man opposite to him. "Care if I help out with a little mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?"
He closed his eyes and gently placed his lips on Harry's, his heart almost skipping a beat out of happiness when the other didn't back away.
It wasn't a fierce kiss, rather an innocent one, but it lasted long, the few seconds feeling like an eternity for Michele, tasting the water and even the blood from an hour ago on the Irish's lips, and oh, they were so soft, he just had put a little more pressure, still tamely and – was he kissing back? Or was the Sicilian just feeling it for a second before he broke the kiss because he wanted him to respond?
Harry stared at the man in front of him, his face suddenly so close and although it was so dark in here, he could make out details. It was like his senses had become hyper aware of Michele's presence.
The golden eyes.
His tanned skin.
The frilly fringe, now soaked and this weird curl on the left side.
Well, what do I need to do to get a smile on this pretty face of yours?
But yes, if you had said knocking him out, I would have gone for a kiss.
Your laughter sounds so full of heart.
This must also hurt terrible.
Nothing so raging and devouring as fire, but heart-warming and peaceful sunshine.
You're right, I should just say that I maybe fell in love with you.
Why his brain had to dig up all those sentences said by the Sicilians now? No clue.
No explanation, not for what was going on in his head nor for grabbing Michele's collar and pulling him into another kiss, clumsy, a lot harder and a second shorter than the one before, yet it felt so right, so good to both of them.
They would have stared in silence afterwards for sure, eyes locked with each other, both way too bewildered to do something - if somebody wouldn't have broken into a laughing fit.
Charlie had to grab the handrail of the stairs leading you down to the tanks so he wouldn't fall over it, his entire body shaking but he managed to get up halfway straight to clap: "Wohoo! N-Nice one!" he snickered.
Paddy, still standing at door, only ran one of his hands through his face but was smiling, too, as far as Harry could make it out from his position.
The twins meanwhile almost pushed Charlie from the stairs when they ran to the tanks, saying something in Italian and Michele had to laugh and nodded, climbing out of the box before walking over to them, the two pulling him out.
Meanwhile Harry was shouting at his best friend: "What's so funny arsehole?!" and Charlie cracked up again, even harder this time.
"Well, it is nice to see you alive and healthy and", he grinned and the other quickly got out of the box to knock it off this damn wanker's face, "enjoying yourself with a hottie."
"I am flattered" Michele smirked when the twins only snuffled annoyed, looking over to the other Irish lifting himself out of the water.
"Are you injured?" Paddy asked, still standing in the same spot when Harry took of his suit jacket, mangling it to get the water out. Suddenly his mouth began to ache, the kiss had distracted him from the unpleasant tingling of the gap.
"Bailey knocked me a tooth out, but apart from that I am okay."
Charlie and Paddy exchanged a look and Harry cocked an eyebrow, laying the jacket over his shoulder before the older man spoke up:
"Fine then. Let's get going before the friends of the two blokes out there arrive."
"There's not enough room for all of us in the car" Lorenzo commented and Paddy shrugged: "We'll take a cab. It's time to part our ways anyways, isn't it?"
"Or Signore O'Connel just comes sitting on my lap" Michele said under his breath, still loud enough for Harry and the twins to hear it.
"No thank you, I'll take the cab" the Irish hissed. "As he has said, it's time to part our ways."
It was answered with an eye roll: "Suddenly we're rude. But surely, go to the hotel and get a rest." The Sicilian leant in to him, a small smirk on his face again: "You'll need it for thinking about what just happened, don't you?"
If it wouldn't be so painfully true and undeniable, he would have slapped Michele with his jacket, now all he did was glaring at him while he made his way upstairs with the twins.
And he was already out of the door when Paddy grabbed the shoulder of one of the twins: "But before we part our ways, I want the laptop."
They looked at each other, Michele pricking his ears:
"Laptop?" Marco asked.
"What laptop?" Lorenzo added.
"Sorry, we don't know what you're talking about."
"Indeed, I have no clue what laptop you mean" their boss joined, scowling at the twins.
"A laptop of the English" Paddy buzzed before the two could answer. "I found it and would like to take it with me. Finders keepers, you know?"
"And losers weepers" Marco gave back.
"It's in our car. Technically we are the finders now" Lorenzo said and both of them turned to Michele, waiting for his decision.
"Is it true?" he asked and they looked away, scratching their heads.
Harry and Charlie were standing behind Paddy now, eyes on him as well.
And the three looked provocative, but still seriously at him, only to add pressure of course. Michele decided that it really suited Harry.
"Give it back, he got it after all, didn't he?" he ordered and the twins, somewhere between done and disappointed, gave in:
"Of course Boss."
Once Harry was outside, he paid a fast look to the upwards. But just one second after he did so, he stopped to gaze at the sky for longer.
It was rather clouded, but not so much one could not see any stars, although there weren't many visible anyway. A really unspectacular sky, to be honest. Average. Usual.
Actually … it was perfect – The clouds, the moonlight, the few stars …
"Frecky, I am sorry to interrupt whatever kind of moment you're just having, but dawdling is not the best thing to do right now" Charlie called and Harry hurried over to the others, just noticing how nasty and cold his clothes felt.
Especially while they waited on the sidewalk for Paddy to come back from the Sicilians.
"Oi, Frecky?"
"What's it now, Charlie?"
His friend wrapped his arm around his neck, rubbing the other's hair with his fist: "It's good to have you back, safe and noisy as always!"
Both of them laughed and Harry forgot everything else. The kisses. The hours in the box. His tooth. His freezing body. Each one of these things did temporarily not exist when he tried to get out of the headlock his best pal had him in.
"Would you two stop that!" Paddy rebuked the two when he came to them and the younger Irishmen giggled, Charlie letting go of Harry.
"You're gonna catch a cold" the older man said.
"I won't."
"You will catch one, colds don't care about what you think."
"I am a grown arse man, if I say I won't catch one I will not catch one."
"Stubborn idiot." He pulled Harry into a one armed but still so warm and tight hug. "I'm so glad we have our stubborn Harry back" he murmured.
He hugged him back.
It was so good to be alive.