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"What the hell am I doing?"
Abbacchio questioned himself this, most notably during two moments in his life: when he was Officer Abbacchio and now at this very moment.
In the throes of the chaos that surrounded him--Passione bestowing judgment onto a corrupt rival gang--all he could do was hold your unconscious form closer. Having found you already like this when he and the others entered the hideout, he wondered whether your gang had abandoned and betrayed you. He kept Moody Blues close by, ready to cut down anyone who dared to sever you away.
Even if you were a reminder, no, a remnant of his past sins.
You were tied to the corruption that he witnessed as an officer, and even indulged in. As a keeper of many secrets to the illicit, underground activities in Italy--being part of a gang yourself--you were the ideal witness, especially to a police officer like him. He did not want to bring you in forcibly as he looked over your picture with a fondness in his eyes, but he wanted to ensure that justice would be served, that he was abiding by his duties. The plan was to have you confess, utilize your secrets, and eventually arrest you for being part of a gang.
Abbacchio did away with his uniform and approached you as a civilian, as someone you could learn to trust, someone you would not mind sharing some secrets. He was too young and naive to realize how foolish this would be.
The moment your eyes met his, he was already trapped.
It seemed all too easy. You both met for innocent rendezvous, afternoon trips to various cafes to avoid suspicion. For every secret you divulged, he was being drawn closer without even realizing what was going on. The look on your face, how you gazed at him while you confessed, he came to appreciate and cherish such a sight.
You trusted him and he relished it. Far beyond fulfilling his goal, but of personal pride.
But then, you suddenly clung to his arm, your tone pleading and desperate as you cried out, "I'm so scared, Abbacchio! If anyone finds out what I've confessed, I'm done for! So won't you please..."
Shivers went along his spine as your hands moved along his torso just before you embraced and clung to him tightly, staring right into his eyes with your tear-filled ones and whispered,
"Won't you please protect me?"
The thought of you arrested and being hauled away to prison flashed in his mind, the betrayal in your eyes as the trust you cultivated together shattered. His fingers shook for a moment but they rested on your face and, despite the conflict in his eyes, choked out, "I swear this to you."
Abbacchio could hear Mista growling out "This way! There's more here!" while he reloaded his gun, both Narancia and Fugo affirming that they would keep pushing forward with their attacks. He remained behind while keeping you close in his arms, much like he did before. You were the reason why he was here in the first place. After hearing the name of your gang, he asserted to Giorno that he would be taking part in this mission.
Buccellati was there at this moment, to which his eyes narrowed as he remarked, "Do not let your past prevent you from doing your duties, Abbacchio."
The former officer's fists clenched tightly as did his teeth, "Of course."
You were just a mere keeper of secrets. All you had to defend yourself were your words, used to trap and ensnare much like you did with him. The only threat you were to him was your very existence.
After his initial promise, what transpired felt like torturous love. The guilt that weighed on him from catering to your whims seemed to wash away when he held you in his arms and when you both shared a bed together, only to return when he had to leave, mainly to begin his shift at the precinct. He would turn back to see you looking at him with complete affection, which worsened the burden that he bore.
Soon enough, the incident that lead to the loss of his partner and his job transpired and Abbacchio could not bear to look at you anymore. He left you without a word, walking away from what he considered to be his shameful past to his eventual future with Passione. Yet not a day went by that he did not think about you. While he became distant and reluctant to trust to nearly everyone, he kept an eye out for your whereabouts, even if he was far too hesitant to approach you.
Now as he remained in the center in what would be the crumbling remains of your gang's hideout, he wondered whether his actions would endanger Passione and ruin all that he and the others had strived to create.
Suddenly, he felt you stir. He looked down and there was the very stare that entranced him all those years ago. It was different, far more vulnerable and frightened.
"Abbacchio, is that you?" You spoke up, your voice small and frail. "Why did...are you here for me?"
The look in his eyes were not like the ones you recalled. His were colder, more jaded and hardened. And yet, they carried nothing but intense resolve as he affirmed,
"I said I would protect you, did I not?"