Chapter Text
When he wakes up, the first thing he notices is that he’s in a bed.
The second thing is that he’s not dead.
It’s dark outside, maybe midnight. But he can still see. It’s a strange feeling: he knows that it’s dark, but he can see almost perfectly.
He gets out of the bed, revelling at how soft it feels, the sheets obviously silk. He’s wearing a shirt now, his mind vaguely supplies. He tries to think about what’s the last thing he remem-
Bruno. A man dressed in white with a powerful looking the Stand, the man and Stand appearing in different places in a blink of the eye. He remembers facing off Mista and a kid with a pompadour. He remembers the mask breaking in half and yelling at them to GET AWAY .
The Mask.
That feeling of power, that feeling of invulnerability. . .it was corrupting him. He laughs inside of his head. That was what made him out of control. He woke up with the mask on his face and he killed the three people. Everytime he went hunting, he was wearing the mask.
But even now, the thrum of thirst hums under his skin. It’s mild. It’s tolerable. He
hates it
and it
scares him
.
He hears talking. The sound isn’t coming from closeby, though. He looks at his hands, almost fainting in relief when he sees that they look normal, although his nails are too pale. Better than that black they turn into every time they go into claw mode.
He creeps into the hallway. This place in unfamiliar. Where is he? He quickly goes back into the room he came out from, pushing the thin curtains of the window aside. He’s on the second floor, that’s for sure. There’s grass surrounding the area and an expansive garden peeking into view. Beyond the grass there is some forest. In the distance, not too far but not too close, are the lights of a town. To the far right, a little less than a kilometer, are cliffs that lead to the ocean.
Leone thinks. He’s. . .with Passione? That seems the most likely.
He goes back into the hallway and follows the voices. The voices are joined by the sound of heartbeats which Leone pushes down. A perk he didn’t know that came with enhanced hearing is that he can sort-of control the sensitivity of what he hears. He’d drive himself crazy hearing heartbeats ever waking minute of every day.
He goes down the stairs and at the bottom he can see the edges of light. Continuing down, he takes a turn towards the light. It’s strange that his heart is still beating, even though he’d live without it (he thinks?). He didn’t need to breathe, but it still feels like he’s choking or something if he doesn’t.
A quick glance proves the room to be the kitchen, people talking inside of it, some of them all too familiar. Kitchen. Kitchen means tea. He hasn’t had a cup of tea yet. He moves out of view, leaning against the wall and listening to their conversation.
“We might have to switch things up a bit” someone says with a sigh, a voice that Leone has thought about for so long. Bruno.
“We won’t have to worry about blood” Giorno. “Blood is organic so I can fill a cup with rocks and make it into blood. It’ll be interesting, seeing if the inorganic base has any effect on taste.”
“Bro, that’d be so cool!” He thinks that voice is from the pompadour kid. He and the white-coat man had looked partially oriental. They also looked like Giorno. He always thought that the kid didn’t look all Italian- now he’s placed his missing heritage piece. “Can you control blood type?”
“. . .I haven’t really thought about it. I just turn the item into blood. . .”
“So you could of blood poisoned me? Thanks a lot, Giorno.” Mista exclaims. Leone tips his head back against the wall, just enjoying the banter that goes back and forth and all around, Bruno talking with the guy with a deep voice, white coat man.
“So if he’s not normal. . .then what?” The conversation flips back to him and what time is it? They should be resting.
“If the rumours of him surviving sunlight are true, then the only way would be to restrain and burn him.” White coat guy says.
“Sounds painful.” Narancia. “But he could be like” shuffling of feet “OoOh! I’m the fire monster!” A slap.
“Nara!” Mista scolds. “This is Abbacchio we’re talking about. Stop with the jokes.” Mista’s being serious? “Weren’t you the one just pleading that he somehow come back?”
“All of us wished he lived” Fugo snaps. “We should just be kind of happy. He’s back and the difficulties that’ll arise from that already seem easy enough to deal with. And even if we can’t…” Fugo’s voice softens. “I can’t see Abbacchio die again.” Abbacchio stands up straight, adjusting his shirt and pulling up his pants a little bit. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. It’s now or never. He can’t have them worrying all night about whether he’s back to normal or no-
Dang it. He underestimated his speed. This was even a bit too fast for him. It’s not as fast as white coat man’s Stand, but it’s still a bit faster than the human eye. He appears right by the sink. There’s a cup conveniently next to the sink. So that he seems completely casual and normal, he puts the cup under the smaller of the two taps, the one with filtered water, and turns it on. He feels everyone’s stares. He holds in his panic, watching the glass fill up. He turns the tap off and looks up.
“What?”He takes a sip of water. The water bothers him. The majority of the time when he’s had water in the past few years the water has either been alcoholic or tea. He’s not used to normal water.
“Abbacchio?” Narancia squeaks, voice small. Abbacchio narrows his eyes and frowns. He can see a few Stands coming out.
“Do you have any tea bags?” He says. “Normal water is tastele-”
“ABBABBO!” Narancia exclaims, swerving around the countertop and flinging himself at Abbacchio. Abbacchio lets out a huff of the laugh, raising the glass above him and stumbling a little with the force that the kid uses.
“You haven’t learned to be careful you rat” Abbacchio teases. “Now can you tell me where the hell the tea bags are? I’ll even have it cold, I’m just not going to drink a normal cup of water. Or wine. I’m fine with that too.”
“Yeeeeah- that’s totally Abbacchio” Mista says. “On another not: ABBACCHIO!” and he’s about to be dogpiled.
“Dude- good to see you’re not some weird creep-o anymore!” Pompadour kid exclaims.
“Who’re you?” Abbacchio nearly growls, per usual. The kid isn’t fazed at all.
“I’m Josuke!” He exclaims. “I’m GioGio’s cousin!” Abbacchio looks at the white-coat man. He’s more like a kid. Just a really tall teenager, just like Mista.
“And who’s the other kid?”
“That’s Jotaro!” Josuke helpfully exclaims.
“I’m thirty” Jotaro says. Abbacchio has to hold in a whistle because that guy cannot be thirty. But then again, the world he lives in is strange enough. He can’t add normal things like completely fantastic aging to that.
And then Bruno taps him on the shoulder.
“I’ll heat up the water for you” Bruno says and Abbacchio, he’s been a total idiot. Bruno = here. Bruno Buccellati, the man he was going to start a relationship with until he went and died on him. Bruno who’s now looking at him with eyes that are both sad and hopeful. Abbacchio rolls his shoulder and pushes Narancia off from where he’s been hanging onto him, causing him to crash onto Fugo. He wraps his arms around Bruno, ignoring the faint smell of blood and the feel of his pulse thumping against the side of his jaw.
“Bruno” he breathes. Bruno chuckles.
“Leone” and his voice breaks and he’s crying, how is he supposed to deal with a crying Bruno?
“Uh, I think we should go to bed” Fugo says, calm and collected. “Doctor Kujo, Josuke. I’ll take you to your rooms.” Within a few seconds, it’s just Bruno and Leone in the kitchen, Bruno clutching onto Leone’s shirtsleeves, weeping into his chest. Leone has his arms wrapped around him, chin resting on top of his head.
“Bruno, caro , I’m alive. Shh.” He says, moving a hand between them so he can tilt Bruno’s head up, placing a kiss on his forehead. He wipes his tears away.
“Your eyes” is the first coherent thing Bruno says, lifting a hand up and cupping the side of Leone’s face. He leans into the touch. The warmth of his hand feels so much better than it did before now that his body is so much colder.
“What about them?” Leone nearly purrs, eyes closing.
“They’re not the same” Bruno softly mutters “But I can get used to them. They’re a different form of beautiful.” Leone’s eyes lazily open and he smiles and Bruno.
“I could say the same to you” Leone says. “Come on, give me a smile?” Bruno smiles, a soft smile filled with love and satisfaction. Leone thumbs the corner of his mouth. “There we go” he whispers. He leans closer to Bruno and right before their lips meet, he moves his mouth by Bruno’s ear.
“Now where’s that cup of tea you were going to make me?”