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Bruno took a long, shaky breath. He had to calm down. He had to collect himself. He couldn’t break down, not now, not in front of his entire team. Later, alone. They depended on him and on his ability to always keep a cool head. Just disregard the situation now and process it when he had a minute to himself.
He took another breath. It was hard to ignore his worries about the massive injury in Leone’s chest when the air here on the beach excessively reeked of iron. Bruno could feel his throat closing up, but he choked it down and went to work.
Kneeling next to the stone Leone had fallen against when he lost consciousness, he leaned down to check his heartbeat whilst holding his own breath. Bruno could almost feel the panicked gazes of the rest of his team in his back.
It was barely audible, but it was there, maybe slower than usually, but it was there and steady. Next, Bruno held his hand under Leone’s nose, waiting anxiously. When he felt air slightly brush his fingers, his heart nearly plummeted into his stomach in relief.
“He’s alive, but he’s losing blood fast,” Bruno said through clenched teeth and sat up. “Narancia, Mista, watch out for more enemy stand users! Maybe they’re still close by.”
With a last glance to Leone’s still form, they nodded and jogged up the road, Mista’s gun drawn and the Sex Pistols ready to go. Aerosmith’s rumbling noises died down just as Narancia went around a corner behind Mista.
Bruno blinked back tears, frozen in his own panic. Not now, he repeated. Not here.
"Let me help.”
Bruno glanced up and nodded at Giorno when he still waited for his boss' command to go ahead.
“Thank you.” He watched how Giorno began to quickly but carefully change Leone’s position into a laying one, put his legs closer towards his body and a stone beneath his feet, effectively stabilizing his blood circulation. He worked so concentrated and calm as if he did this a dozen times per day. If things in Italy had been different, he didn't doubt that the young boy would have become a good doctor or vet in no time. The way he moved seemed extremely efficient, very unlike Bruno.
Usually, he had no problems patching up his teammates. As leader of his own gang he of course didn’t have any issues with blood, wounds and the occasional but inevitable death of people close to him. It appeared that Bruno just wasn't able to treat Leone's wounds when he could die at any moment. He didn't want to be the cause of his lover's death, couldn't bear the thought alone that Leone died if he made a mistake treating him. If he bled out because of and right in front of him.
Bruno cleared his throat, trying to change the direction of his thoughts before unwanted tears clogged his vision completely.
"We need to stop the blood loss," Giorno said as he kept pressing the edges of the wound together. "Do you have any sewing materials with you? Perhaps also bandages or strong alcohol?"
Bruno kept staring at the boy's slim hands. Slick blood coated most of his skin. He wondered how he knew all this at the young age of 15. All things considered, Leone wasn't that much older. When Bruno looked at his face, now void of the smallest amount of colour and the pissed expression he always wore to shield himself, he barely looked like an adult to him. Shit, all of them were just too young to fight like this in the mafia, honorable dreams and goals or not. After all, 21 was not a good age to die.
"-oss! Hey, Bruno!"
Startling, he jerked his gaze up to Giorno, who looked like he expected an answer.
Concentrate, he scolded himself, or he will die anyway.
Once again, he took a breath and clenched his teeth. Giorno noticed his renewed focus and repeated his question. Bruno was just glad he had always prepared a first aid kit for cases like this, and brought it to daylight with the help of Sticky Fingers.
It turned out that the wound was just broad, deep enough to make Leone pass out from the pain and blood loss, but not to actually damage important body parts. Whilst Bruno disinfected their hands and the wound, Giorno turned pebbles into flesh to fill in the parts that the man missed. With steady fingers, he threaded the needle and stitched everything close before Bruno could even process it.
"This should be enough. He'll most likely wake up sooner than later." Once again, Giorno inspected their work to make sure he hadn't missed anything before he sat back and sighed.
Bruno's eyes were just on his partner's face, looking for any sign he'd gain consciousness. Suddenly, something occurred to him. "Why didn't you use your stand's ability to patch him up?"
"It wasn't necessary," he explained. "It'll heal naturally like that, and he will regain feeling on his skin. If Gold Experience would have just fitted flesh and skin in the wound, the area would have stayed numb. I know how to treat wounds like these both ways, so this seemed like the better option to m-"
A deep groan interrupted him, making them snap their attention back to the wounded man. Thankfully, he already looked like he'd wake up any second.
"I'll stand guard. Don't hesitate to call me if you need me."
Bruno nodded, exhaustion gripping him now that most of the immediate danger was dealt with. "Thank you, Giorno."
"Fucking shit." At the curse, Bruno's attention was caught again by his partner, his eyes already open if not a bit hazy. "What did the fucker plant into me," he muttered while stared at Giorno, grimacing when the pain burned through him.
Relief flooded through Bruno and he grabbed Leone's hand tighter in his own. "How do you feel?"
"Just peachy," he slurred. "Just give me the booze already. I feel like a rat crawled into my chest, took a piss and died."
Bruno hesitated, his mind bringing him back to the lowest point in Leone's life, but the decision was taken from him when weeds suddenly grew over the floor next to him. When they got bigger and bloomed Bruno could make out that they were red poppies and silently thanked Giorno for his mindfulness. Bruno ripped off their seeds and offered them to Leone along with some water. "This is better than the whiskey."
Leone eyed it in disgust but seemed too exhausted to argue. "Good ol' morphine," he muttered sarcastically. Soon after that, he passed out again. Although Bruno could barely stand seeing his love like this, he supposed the sleep helped him heal. He did not know whether Leone's face already earned back some of its usual colour or if it was the beautiful sunset over the sea that tinted everything in a bright red light, but he was now sure that everything might turn alright after all.
Bruno might just torture the person responsible for this some hours longer than normally appropriate.