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Once all the kids had finally fallen asleep, piled atop one another on the single king size bed in the center of the hotel room, Bruno found himself clenching and unclenching his fists. His mouth still tasted like blood, the wound he'd bitten into his lip painless but gaping. He sat stiffly in the single desk chair, unable to do anything but stare at them as they slept.
When Fugo had left them, Bruno had understood. He had been proud of him. Fugo, putting himself first for once. Part of Bruno had wanted to tell everyone else to go with him--to save themselves while they could. A tired smile briefly crossed his face, tearing the hole in his lower lip a little wider. It would've been useless. Mista and Narancia were his kids. They were so attached. Giorno, well...he was just too committed to the ideal to ever do anything else. And Leone Abbachio...he would sooner die than let Bruno walk into hell alone. Bruno's jaw tightened at the thought. He had. Of course he had.
A single tear ran down his cheek, though he could no longer feel its burn in his eye. Oh, Leone. I shouldn't have left you there. Not even for a second--it was so foolish of me. Bruno's fists clenched so tightly that his nails bit crescent moons into his palms, his hands trembling. He felt nothing, nothing, nothing. Not in his hands, not in the hole in his lip. Not in that ghost of a wound on his chest.
I am not long behind you, Leone. I hope you'll forgive me when I find you.
That was his last thought as Bruno tipped his head forward and fell quietly beneath the blanket of exhausted sleep.
--
"Bruno?" A trembling, deep voice asked from behind him. Bruno turned around slowly, disoriented as he tried to take in his surroundings--he stood in front of a cafe on a quiet road, a single bus parked at the end of the street. There seemed to be nothing beyond it.
"Leone?" Bruno asked hoarsely. And there he was. There he stood, his Leone, looking perfect and uninjured beside him. No gaping hole through his chest, no pale grey in his eyes. Just Leone. Bruno couldn't help but reach up a hand, closing the gap between them to cradle his face. Bruno's fingers felt warmth, as if for the first time when Abbacchio tilted his head into Bruno's touch. Both men's eyes filled with tears, stinging and rolling over their cheeks as Leone fell to his knees and threw his arms around Bruno's waist.
"Not you. Not you too. No!" Abbacchio's voice came out choked and hoarse, full of emotion that Bruno had never heard from him. Why is he so upset? I'm so glad to see him, why doesn't he feel the same? Bruno sank down shakily, kneeling before his friend to take his face in both hands.
"What's wrong, Leone? I've missed you terribly, you know." Bruno could barely speak above a whisper. He ran his fingers gently through the other man's hair, soft as silk and pale as the moon. So beautiful.
"What's wrong?" Abbacchio asked, uncertainty in his face as if he was missing the joke. "You're here. That means...you're dead. You died, too, right?" Abbacchio's eyes flickered over Bruno's face erratically, his hands clutching at Bruno's waist like he thought his capo would evaporate from his grasp.
Bruno couldn't help the dry laugh that clawed itself from his chest.
"Oh, dear. Leone, I died the moment I turned against the boss. He killed me in there." Bruno paused to gently touch a hand to Abbacchio's chest, fingers grazing over the space that had been missing only to find hard muscle in its place. "Right where he killed you." He said softly.
"But that was...that was days ago." Abbacchio met his eyes with guarded fear.
"Giorno brought me back." Bruno said. "He was...we were too late to do the same for you."
Abbacchio huffed out a small, bitter chuckle.
"I wouldn't have wanted that anyway."
"I know."
"If you're...not dead? Why are you here?" He asked carefully, gently fixing Bruno's jacket where he had crumpled it.
"I'm half dead, I think. It must be a dream." Bruno said distantly. He reached up once more, touching his thumb to a tear that rested at the curve of the other man's jawline. "I don't mind it, though. If I'm dead, there are worse things." Bruno trailed his thumb along Abbacchio's jaw, stroking the side of his face gently. "I am so sorry, Leone. I should never have left you there. I should have known better--I was too proud, too eager. I--" Bruno's voice caught. "I let you die. I'm sorry."
It was Leone's turn to comfort, then, and as Bruno shook with a silent sob, he opened his arms and pulled the smaller man into his lap.
"There is nothing I would rather have died for. You know this." He whispered.
"I know. I know. You shouldn't have died, all the same."
"What was the alternative? Do you really think I ever imagined it ending differently?"
"The alternative?" Bruno's shaking stilled a little as he craned his neck to look up at Leone. "We win. We kill the boss. We leave Giorno in charge. You and I retire to Naples and I teach you to fish. That was always what I wanted, though I wasn't foolish enough to think I'd get it." He rested his head back against Abbacchio's chest and listened as the other man's heartbeat fluttered and pounded a little harder.
"That was always what you wanted?" Abbacchio asked softly.
"Yes."
"Oh."
Bruno felt Abbacchio's fingertips under his chin, tilting his head up gently so that they could meet each other's eyes.
"That would have been worth living for. You should've told me sooner."
Bruno felt tears prick his eyes again--so many times in one day--and then he felt lips press against his own. Leone lifted Bruno, one hand hooked beneath his thighs, to hold him closer and kiss him with a surprising gentleness.
Even in this hazy reality, Bruno felt so much more than he had recently felt in his waking hours. The senses that had been taken from him in death were all returned to him here. He could feel the warmth of Leone against him, the soft smudge of his lipstick against Bruno's mouth. He felt the rapid beat of Leone's heart--he even felt his own matching time. He sighed softly into the kiss, parting his lips to taste the other man. When they broke away after a moment, there was a faint purple color on Bruno's lips and the soft pink of blood in his cheeks.
"I wish I had told you the moment I met you." Bruno whispered.
They sat that way for what felt like hours but was likely only minutes at most, until Bruno felt himself beginning to slip away.
Abbacchio had to stop himself from digging his fingers in and clutching Bruno to him desperately.
"Will you be back?" He asked in a whisper.
"Yes." Bruno responded with certainty.
"I'll be waiting here." Abbacchio said.
Bruno nodded solemnly, touching his forehead to Leone's as their surroundings went hazy.
"I'm going to teach you to fish when I get back." He whispered.
Leone's crooked smile was the last thing Bruno saw before he woke up.