Work With Me -Bruno Buccellati x Reader-

30- A bonding moment

It was like nothing you had ever seen before. Abbacchio stood, leaning against the van, a cigarette in hand, smoke curling the evening air. You walked behind Bruno, silently, listening to his footfalls and Abbachio's heavy sighs. He was right, wasn't he? That you didn't deserve to be here, to be surrounded by the love and support of Bruno- to be his. You felt like a devil, wearing the face of somebody else, you from an alternate universe where you had never committed that heinous sin. Abbachio pulls the cigarette from his lips and the end is stained purple with lipstick. He turns to you, drops the thing to the ground and grinds it with his heel. You get the impression he wishes it were you beneath his foot.

"I'm going to find Fugo," Bruno says, as he tugs at the locked van door. "You two play nice."

He places a kiss to your cheek and strolls off before either of you can protest.

Abbachio fishes in his pocket and pulls out a flask, he checks to make sure Bruno isn't looking back and drinks from it. You can smell it, the burning alcohol, your mouth waters.

"I'm not here for you." He says, swirling the flask, the cap rattles against it, "I'm here to protect Buccellati."

"So am I."

"You're here to get the Don's help with your problems, don't lie to me." Abbachio huffs.

"You think you know me so well?"

"You're a child, you throw tantrums and get the grown ups to clear up your mess." He tucks the flask away and crosses his arms, "Am I close?"

You walk towards him. The alcohol lingers on his breath, his broad chest rises and falls slowly, calmly. "You're right."

"Oh?"

"I was a child, and sometimes I still act like one. But I know what I did wrong and I'm here to help fix it, not to get somebody else to do it for me. Bruno isn't my carer, I can make amends myself."

"And you think that makes it ok? Because you cry and say sorry? That just because he kisses you and he says he loves you that he isn't still upset? I saw him when you left, and he was a mess. He didn't do anything but sit around and mourn for you. You broke him."

"I know." You bite back the tears, you will not cry in front of him, you will not let him win. "I know what I did-"

"That doesn't make it right! That doesn't make it all vanish, it doesn't magically disappear because you apologise! Everyone will face the consequences, including you. You will carry the knowledge and guilt with you forever, you will never be free from the burden of your actions." Abbachio sighs again, but his voice shakes and his eyes are cast downwards. He stands up straight and closes the gap between you, "That's the worst punishment of all, not what I think, not what Bruno thinks, but the idea that you will never be happy with yourself again."

You nod, Abbachio leans down and you can see the redness in his eyes, the bags under them, the darkness that festers there. You reach out and touch his cold skin. He feels dead, lifeless in your hands. Like a ghost of a person.

"Are you happy with yourself?" You ask.

"Never." He says, and he brushes your hand away.

You stare at him for a moment, and a question bubbles in your throat.

"Did, did you help Bruno?"

"Of course I did. I will always be there for him." He turns his face away, "And I know you will be too, because you owe him."

"I would be nothing without him. The only time I'm at ease is when I'm with Bruno."

Abbachio chuckles, and you see a genuine smile flitter across his face, "I said that to him once, when we first became traitors. I trust him completely, I will do whatever he asks."

He's still leaning down, and for a moment there's a calmness between the two of you. You found something, a connection, a mutual interest. Abbachio straightens up and produces a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket,

"Do you smoke?"

"Not anymore." You follow him the few steps to  the van and lean on it beside him, "But go ahead."

"I want you to know this doesn't make us friends," Abbachio mumbles, cigarette hanging on his bottom lip as he lights it, "I will only ever protect Bruno, if Cioccolata comes for you, don't expect me to help."

"I don't deserve your help, as long as Bruno is safe."

He nods, and takes a long drag. You breathe in the second hand smoke and relax. You can see Bruno in the distance, walking down the street with Fugo in tow. It's still a long way to Giorno, but you feel safer with Abbachio on board. Your life still hangs in the balance, resting in the hands of fate, but Bruno's life is secure, protected by so many that will kill and die for him. You wave as he approaches and you see him smile as he realises that neither you or Abbachio are lying on the floor bleeding.

"Are you getting along?"

"Best that we can," Abbachio says, blowing smoke rings.

"Well hurry up and finish that, we should get going, there's a layby up ahead where we can spend the night." He opens the van door and climbs into the passenger seat. Fugo gets into the driver's and starts the van.

Abbachio smiles to himself and throws only half-smoked cigarette to the curb. He looks at you again before getting in.

The evening is cold, and the smoke still lingers in the air. But you smile despite it all, and open the van door. The radio crackles, singing some sweet melody, and Bruno is chatting away. Abbachio mumbles something about an early night, eyes already closed and you can't help but laugh. Maybe you will never be happy with yourself again, but you can be happy with those around you that make life worth fighting for.