Chapter 237 - Chapter 224: The Way Forward

3 hours later

BAM

"WHERE THE F*CK IS BENNY!" Johnny roared through the Luciano family headquarters, kicking the door wide open as his hands nearly tore at his black hair.

"DOES ANYONE KNOW WHERE THE ONLY F*CKING BLOND KID IN THIS ENTIRE GODDAMN FAMILY IS?!" Johnny screamed, his head snapping from side to side at the mobsters, who awkwardly avoided his gaze.

"LOUIS! WHERE IS HE?" Johnny yelled, spinning on Louis, who had been trailing him after handling his rounds.

"I-I don't know-"

"HE'S BEEN GONE FOR THREE DAYS, THREE F*CKING DAYS, AND NO ONE EVEN BATTED AN EYE?!" Johnny barked in disbelief, after tearing through every one of their operations only to realize the one guy Ricky had asked for had been missing this whole time.

"Well, uh, Benny likes to wander-"

"FOR THREE DAYS!?!" Johnny exploded, exasperation pushing him past his limits as he struggled to comprehend how no one had said a word to him.

"He usually wanders the city until you or the boss call him for something," Louis muttered, fiddling with his hands while his eyes were fixed on the ground.

"AND YOU JUST LET HIM WANDER OFF ALONE?!" Johnny snapped, glaring at Benny's only friend, who had no clue where he was.

"I-I didn't think anyone would, you know?" Louis stammered, letting the sentence trail off with an implication clear to everyone but Johnny.

"WHAT!"

"Mess with him, nobody our age even goes near him." 

After the fiasco with the Irish kids, Benny's name had carried enough weight that not a single kid on the streets of New York ever crossed him again.

Word traveled fast, too fast, and soon he wasn't just another stray hanging around the Luciano family; he was their rabid dog, snapping at anyone idiotic enough to even breathe wrong in their direction, let alone speak against Ricky.

It got to the point where his presence alone was enough to choke the air out of a block.

Whenever Benny strolled down the sidewalk, mouths clamped shut, conversations died mid-sentence, and eyes darted anywhere but his. 

People just started to fear that the smallest spark, whether it was an accidental glance or a muttered word, might be enough to set him off.

"Then where is he?" Johnny asked again, forcing himself to calm down while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I-I don't know-"

"Then get to know him and then find him." Johnny hissed, jabbing his finger into Louis's face as if offloading the problem onto him.

"But-"

"Listen to me very closely, Louis, because I don't wanna hear you stuttering like some retard." Johnny cut in, worn thin after tearing through every one of their operations while still trying to keep the work moving.

"Find Benny, or I'll put my foot not just up your ass, but up the rest of you," Johnny snarled, gesturing at Louis and the three others lounging against the wall.

"By the rest of us, do you mean-"

BAM

Before David could finish, Johnny snatched the nearest thing within reach and hurled it across the room. 

The mutant ducked his head fast as the object whistled past his ear before smashing against the wall.

David flinched at the fresh dent in the drywall before turning back to Paolo with a pale face, but he found not even an ounce of sympathy.

"Idiot." Paolo muttered, frowning as he leaned back against the wall and watched David's shoulders sink.

"Where do we even start-" Louis began, just as confused as Johnny, since he'd already helped search the first time. 

"Oh, I don't know, how about starting at the house LUCKY gave him!" Johnny screamed, his voice cracking with rage at the obviousness of it before stomping off.

"O-Ok!" Louis called out after him, showing a thumbs up

"What's up his ass?" Jeremiah muttered out loud, wondering why Johnny hadn't gone to the house himself instead of ordering them to do it.

"I heard through the grapevine the boss is pissed today and wants to see Benny," Paolo interrupted, sighing and shaking his head. 

"Why Benny-" Jeremiah frowned, a little jealous as he crossed his arms while kicking a nearby pebble.

"It doesn't matter. We have to find Benny," Louis said, clapping his hands together as if to drive the point home.

"How the f*ck are we supposed to find Benny?" Paolo laughed, throwing up his hands at the absurdity of the task.

"Yeah, he just sort of pops up," Jeremiah agreed, frowning since he had never once seen what Benny did outside the family.

"D-Do we really have to go looking for Benny?" David asked suddenly, and the room grew quiet as the others slowly turned their heads toward him.

"It just seems like we always get caught in something-"

Slap

"Of course we're gonna find him. Did you not hear what Johnny asked?" Paolo scoffed, smacking David on the back of the head as if it were obvious.

"Yeah, I know, but every time I get near him it feels like we end up mixed up in something," David muttered, clenching his hands together tightly while Jeremiah sighed off to the side.

"Fine. If nobody's gonna say it, then I'll just come out with it," Jeremiah said with a shrug, glancing around since none of them wanted to voice the fact that came with this line of work.

"Are we sure he ain't dead?"

"He's not dead-"

"I don't know, I mean, Jeremiah's got a point since unless you really know the guy, he has a way of just getting under your skin." Paolo scoffed, shaking his head at Louis, who frowned at the blatant insult of his friend.

"Yeah, I don't think anyone's pissed me off as much as him, to tell the truth," Jeremiah admitted, leaning back against the wall before spitting to the side, as if to get rid of the bitter taste Benny always left behind.

"I mean, it's like the guy doesn't even understand what it means to lie." Paolo added, venting that half their problems could've been avoided if Benny just kept his mouth shut once in a while.

SIGH

They all sighed at that glaring fact, knowing how difficult Benny's mouth was and how it had them all end up in this exact spot.

"It doesn't matter, we still need to find him." " Louis said, his voice steady but edged with frustration as he planted his feet firmly, forcing the others to meet his gaze.

"Yeah, why don't we start at his house like Johnny said."

However, at the unfamiliar tone not associated with their group, the four of them rigidly turned their heads to Marco standing at the side.

"Who's that?" Jeremiah asked, a little annoyed that someone had just stepped into their conversation without any introduction.

"He's Marco, Alina's kid," Paolo said, gesturing lazily toward the side while his eyes carried a sharp glare.

"But I thought Ricky-"

"Nah, that's Moxie, he was before the boss." David explained, shaking his head and chuckling at the mix-up.

"Ohhhhhhhh~" Jeremiah and Louis said in unison, nodding as they finally remembered who the kid was. 

At that realization, their gazes slowly shifted to Paolo, who remained locked on Marco, unblinking and unreadable.

"Well, I'm Marco, and I think I'm supposed to roll with you guys to find Benny." Marco happily said, completely misinterpreting Ricky's words from earlier in the day.

"You're gonna work with us?" Paolo asked, giving him a strange look as Marco returned it with an expression that carried a surprising hint of familiarity.

"You're Paolo, right?" Marco asked, holding out his hand with a smile, as if they were meeting for the first time.

"Uh-oh," David whispered from the side, watching Paolo's eyes flare with barely contained rage at Marco, who didn't even flinch at the intensity.

"Yeah." Paolo said, his expression tight with apprehension as he reached for Marco's hand, teeth gritted while slowly taking it into a firm handshake.

"I'm David!" David quickly said, pulling Paolo back as he suddenly grabbed Maroc's hand and shook it vigorously.

"Nice to meet you, David," Marco laughed, completely unaware of the tension thick in the air as he flashed them a toothy grin.

"Well, a little about me is that I like to cook. Not that I'm great at it, but it's something I do in my free time." Marco chuckled, introducing himself while Paolo's frown deepened, as if expecting something else entirely.

"Uh huh."

"And like my brother before me, I decided to join the family."

"Uh-huh," Paolo muttered, his hands slowly balling into fists as he stared at Marco. 

But before Paolo could do anything, Louis suddenly stepped into Marco's line of sight, breaking the tension slightly.

"It's really nice to meet you, Marco. I'm Louis," Louis said, forcing a smile as he shook Marco's hand while the latter turned his head toward Jeremiah, who didn't even acknowledge him.

"Well, let's get going." Marco excitedly said, stepping forward eagerly with a wide grin spreading across his face. 

For the first time, he felt like he was finally doing something important for the family, like he actually belonged. 

The sunlight hit his hair just right, and he imagined the others falling into step behind him, ready to follow his lead.

But as he glanced back, his smile faltered. 

None of them were moving. 

All four stood rooted in place, frowning as their eyes locked onto him with an intensity he hadn't expected. 

The weight of their judgment pressed down on him, and the excitement that had filled his chest moments ago began to shrink, replaced by a creeping unease.

"Aye, what are you doing?" Paolo asked, scowling at Marco with an intensity that made the young Italian flinch.

"Getting ready to leave-"

"Marco, did the boss assign you as the lead for this?" Louis asked carefully, trying not to sound unreasonable, though he couldn't hide a hint of annoyance at Marco's sudden eagerness.

"Well, no-"

"Then why are you bossing us around?" Jeremiah asked, eyebrows furrowed as he glared at someone clearly weaker and less experienced than himself. 

Even though Jeremiah didn't particularly like Benny, the young warlock held a deep respect for him, the kind of respect reserved for only the others within their little group.

Each of them had earned their place through actions, through consistency, and through moments that mattered when it counted.

Excluding Marco, of course.

Which was why they all took offense when Marco suddenly showed up and started bossing them around.

"O-Oh, I didn't mean-"

"It doesn't matter, you can't just walk in here all high and mighty-"

Bam

"Seriously, Paolo," Louis frowned, giving him a light punch on the shoulder that forced Paolo to swallow his hateful words and turn away.

Ahem

"What he's trying to say is that we know you mean well, but do you have any experience in the family?" Louis asked, clearing his throat and doing his best to sound reasonable to someone so close to the boss.

"Well, no, Slick-I mean, the boss has never let me join until now-"

Clap

"Right," Louis said, clapping his hands together and pointing all ten fingers at him.

"I think you should just follow our lead for now, to get familiar with your surroundings-"

"Are you serious?" Marco asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice as he raised an eyebrow at mere runners of the family holding themselves in such high regard.

In Marco's mind, he couldn't understand where all this confidence came from. 

From the outside, they weren't even associates, they were just a group of runners Marco expected to handle odd jobs for the family. 

They weren't supposed to be commanding respect or acting like they ran things; that was reserved for the made men, the ones with real authority and power.

"Are you?" Paolo asked, offended at the very suggestion, shooting to his feet and taking a step toward Marco.

Marco had assumed he knew what runners were like, but this group was far from ordinary. 

They had faced challenges that went well beyond simple errands, gaining more experience than even some of the made men in the family. 

But the fact that Marco, of all people, hadn't realized this only served to fuel Paolo's irritation.

"Paolo!" Louis reprimanded, yanking him back only for his hand to be batted away.

"What? Are we just gonna listen to this bullsh*t?" Paolo asked genuinely, gesturing toward Marco, who frowned at the blatant disrespect.

"We've all gone through sh*t that only crazy-ass people would put themselves into-" Paolo paused, realizing his words sounded off, especially knowing that one person in particular always threw himself into danger without a second thought.

"Except Benny. That f*cking lunatic goes headfirst into whatever's in front of him," Paolo sighed, shaking his head, only to flinch under Louis's sharp glare.

"We don't talk about our guys like that, any of our guys." Louis said firmly, his eyes burning with a quiet intensity that made Paolo instinctively lower his head.

"C'mon Louis, Benny doesn't even flinch when we call him crazy, in fact, the guy agrees with us-"

"It doesn't matter." Louis interrupted, his usual demeanor melting away into a cold, unyielding stare that froze Paolo. 

"Benny is one of us and that's the only reason we need to find him, come on." Louis almost demanded, walking forward as Paolo rubbed the back of his neck before scoffing to the side.

"Whatever, but I ain't taking orders from fresh meat over there," Paolo said, falling in step behind Louis while casting a subtle glare at Marco.

"Me neither. Full offense, I don't even listen to people weaker than me," Jeremiah shrugged, bumping into Marco's shoulder as he lifted his two grimoires into the air to scare off retaliation.

"Hey, you're doing great!" David encouraged, patting Marco on the shoulder as he ran to catch up with the group.

At his first introduction to these guys, Marco noticed one thing that seemed to be a common reaction not just from him, but from anyone who would meet them in the future:

"Who even are these guys?"

10 minutes later,

Knock

Knock

Two subtle knocks pierced the haze of Benny's consciousness, his mind still reeling from having a frying pan slammed into his head.

"Hello?" A woman called, slowly opening the door to reveal five children standing on her doorstep.

"Hi-...are you Benny's mother?" Louis asked, an awkward smile tugging at his face as he realized that none of them even realized that he had a mother.

"Yes? Is there something wrong?" Benny's mother asked endearingly, a warm smile on her face that caught Louis off guard.

"O-Oh, no ma'am-"

"Oh, okay."

BAM

Without an ounce of hesitation, Benny's mother slammed the door right in their faces as Louis raised a finger, then slowly let it drop.

They all stared blankly at the gesture, Louis tilting his head in disbelief, muttering under his breath as if trying to make sense of what had just happened.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Paolo suddenly erupted in laughter, clutching his stomach and stumbling to the side.

It was as if that single reaction from Benny's mother explained everything as they all slowly realized his audacity wasn't born from nowhere; it had been inherited.

Knock

Knock

"Yes?" Benny's mother asked, looking confused, as if she assumed the conversation was already over.

"Is there something else?" She added, tilting her head with that same warm, standard smile.

"Yes, ma'am, but we're looking for Benny-"

"Oh, did he not tell you?" Benny's mother suddenly exclaimed, gasping slightly and covering her shocked expression with a hand.

"N-No?" Louis awkwardly said, looking around at everyone while Paolo was laughing hystericlaly over at the side.

"He decided that he wanted to return to Germany earlier," Benny's mother revealed, watching as all of them, including the laughing Paolo, froze.

"HE WHAT!" David exclaimed on behalf of the group, taking her words at face value, while the others slowly frowned.

"You didn't hear? The Führer has called back all true-blooded Aryans to the motherland," Benny's mother added passionately, clasping her hands together and staring dreamily into the distance.

"I'm just truly blessed to have a son who would drop everything to heed his call." Benny's Mother said heartily, slowly wiping a single tear from her eye, pride radiating from every gesture.

However, unlike Marco, who smiled at the woman's 'obvious' love for her son, the rest of them stared in disbelief at her words, unable to wrap their minds around it.

"Benny?" Paolo clarified, frowning and furrowing his brows as if wondering if they were talking about the same person.

"Benny, the blond-haired guy with the blue eyes, dropped everything at the drop of a hat for some guy in Germany?" Paolo asked genuinely, describing Benny's entire appearance as if they were talking about two different people.

"Oh yes, he was very excited-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Jeremiah suddenly interrupted, unable to contain his shock, waving his hands as if to stop her.

"Benny was excited? Like, actually smiling excited?" Jeremiah clarified, struggling to imagine Benny smiling, let alone genuinely happy.

"Oh, well, you know him," Benny's mother laughed, swatting her hand at the young warlock, who stared at her in confusion.

"But before he joined that little gang, he was very passionate about his country." She explained, trying to navigate around the exaggerations with ease.

"I thought he just sold apples?" David chimed in, a puzzled expression on his face as he struggled to see the connection.

"Apples are a very prominent part of German culture—"

"They're prominent in every culture! They're apples!" Louis suddenly yelled, completely flabbergasted at Benny's mother, who seemed to be speaking as if her son were anyone other than Benny.

"Aye, what is wrong with you?" Marco angrily said, stepping in between them while pushing Louis back a little.

"That's his ma, show some respect!" Marco reprimanded, watching as all of them immediately frowned at his words before he turned his back to them.

"Listen, ma'am, we really need to-" Marco began politely, smiling as he addressed Benny's mother with respect.

"I'm sorry young man, but I'm afraid he's already left" Benny Mother sighed, as if it were outof her hands as Maroc slowly nodded.

"Well, thanks anyways-"

"Bullsh*t." Paolo said immediately, calling her bluff as he crossed his arms and glared at Benny's mother.

"What is your problem-"

"Oh, f*ck off." Paolo scoffed, rolling his eyes away from Marco and toward Louis.

"Louis, as the guy's only friend, be honest, since we all kind of gravitate around him." Paolo explained, trying to frame it in the best way possible, knowing that none of them had really tried to get to know Benny like Louis had.

"Would Benny leave unless the boss told him to?" Paolo wondered aloud, spreading his arms toward the rest of the group, excluding Marco, who was fuming at the side.

"'Cause the Benny I know would never go against the family, let alone Ricky Luciano, the guy he worships like f*cking Jesus." Paolo added, shaking his head in disbelief sicen he couldn't believe that Benny would ever betray the family.

However, at Paolo's words about Ricky, Benny's mother's features twitched ever so slightly, a subtle shift that didn't go unnoticed. 

Jeremaih slowly raised an eyebrow, catching the almost imperceptible reaction and wondering what it might mean.

"Listen, she's obviously lying-" Paolo scoffed, pointing his thumb at the woman who immediately interrupted.

"He loves me, he loves his country, and-"

"Nah, Paolo's right, something ain't adding up." Jeremiah interjected, siding with Paolo as he squinted at her so-called smile.

"Benny looks up to the boss more than I do, and that's saying something coming from a warlock," Jeremiah revealed, thumping his chest to drive the point home.

"Well, now that you mention it, he did cherish that knife like it was some sort of newborn," David muttered from the side, remembering how Benny would stare at it for hours whenever he wasn't doing anything.

"Oh, I think I smell something burning!"

Bam

However, before she could slam the door back into their faces a second time, someone acted first.

"Yeah, let's hold off on that," Paolo said, stepping into the doorway as Benny's mother slowly turned to Marco, assuming he was the gullible one.

"I thought you were his friends-" Benny's mother asked, watching as Marco tensed slightly at the sight of her blue eyes welling up in his direction.

"We are-" Louis tried to say, stepping forward only for Paolo to ruin the moment.

"You are-"

"And that's why it's going to hurt me to do this," Louis continued, ignoring Paolo as he slowly forced the door open.

"But I think we're gonna look around, just to be safe." Louis added, trying to sound gentle since though he was kind at heart, he was now a mobster through and through.

"Aye, we don't f*cking do that!" Marco yelled, watching all four of them turn around with confused expressions.

"What?" They all asked in unison, bewildered since their line of work was literally taking advantage of others.

"We respect our ma's. If she says he left for Germany, then he probably f*cking left for Germany." Marco added firmly, completely assuming that all mothers loved their children as fiercely as Alina did.

"And why would she lie-"

"Watch your mouth," Paolo said in a dangerous tone, finally fed up with the guy who had forced himself into their group.

"What he's trying to say is that Benny wouldn't just leave without saying anything; he revered the boss." Louis clarified, trying to explain their reasoning but Marco simply shook his head, unconvinced.

"If my ma told me to go back to Sicily, I would," Marco explained calmly, watching all of them frown at his certainty.

"Aye, sorry about them, c'mon guys, let's go." 

However, at Marco's behest, none of them even moved an inch. Instead, they just stared at him, their gazes sharper and more hateful than before.

"Fellas, let's go-"

"We don't take orders from you," David said, crossing his arms at Marco, who was starting to get a little too high and mighty for his tastes.

"Johnny told us to find Benny at all costs, not to just give up because one woman says otherwise," Paolo added, raising his gaze to Marco with evident disdain.

"What's your problem-" Marco finally asked, taking a step forward only for Paolo to meet him half-way.

"My problem?" Paolo asked, pushing the kid down the steps as he stumbled off the porch, just as Benny's mother realized his foot was no longer blocking the door.

"Are you really f*cking asking me that right now!" Paolo screamed, pointing angrily at Marco, who was regaining his footing while slowly ducking his head.

Although Marco had tried to brush it off and act like a clean slate, Paolo wasn't about to let the tension between them dissolve so easily. 

Every glance, every smirk, every attempt at casualness from Marco only fueled Paolo's irritation, making it clear that he expected acknowledgment, and maybe even an apology, before moving forward.

But all he got was an introduction.

"I didn't want any of that to happen-"

"Yet, all my friends are dead." Paolo's voice broke, the corners of his eyes wet with unshed tears as he remembered losing every single one of the people he grew up with.

"Paolo-" David began, trying to reach out, but Paolo shoved him aside and turned toward him.

"No, he doesn't even f*cking care," Paolo said with a hollow chuckle, gesturing toward Marco while keeping his gaze locked on David.

"Did you see the way he just skipped over it like it was nothing?" Paolo added, recalling their earlier introduction, laughing bitterly at the absurdity while Marco rubbed his shoulder while ducking his head further.

"Vito was turned into a bloody mess! He lost his fcking hand!" Paolo yelled, slamming his hand down as if the sound alone could drive the point home.

"Paolo, stop-"

"We watched them, David! WE WATCHED THEM POP LIKE F*CKING BALLOONS!" Paolo screamed, his eyes bloodshot as the memory of their desperate pleas haunted him still.

"And he doesn't even pay his respects." Paolo gestured, turning back to Marco who was just standing there awkwardly.

"Y'know what? F*ck you-" Paolo seethed, lunging at Maroc only for Louis to tackle him to the side.

"Paolo, enough," Louis whispered, pressing his back against the nearby railing and pinning him there until he could calm down.

"We-" Louis began, attempting to speak some sense into him, only for Benny's mother to notice the perfect opportunity.

"Oh, I think I smell something burning!"

BAM

Once again, the door slammed in Louis's face, and he facepalmed, rubbing his features in frustration as Paolo wiggled free from his grasp and took a step toward Marco.

"You didn't even do anything! You just sat there and watched us throw our lives away for yours," Paolo seethed, pointing at him as David lunged to hold him back.

"And now you just want to join the family like nothing happened!" Paolo yelled, trying to lunge forward, only for Jeremiah to jump in and restrain him while Louis pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"You just sat there and watched-"

"What was I supposed to do-"

"ANYTHING!" Paolo screeched, kicking and flailing as he tried to punch his way forward, veins bulging in his neck.

"YOU JUST WATCHED!" Paolo roared, tears streaming down his face as the flood of emotions he had been bottling for so long finally poured out, aimed squarely at Marco.

"I've lost people too-"

"Nah, your brother died with f*cking honor," Paolo scoffed, sniffling as he turned to the side, a bitter laugh escaping him at the comparison.

"But those kids, who gave their life for yours, weren't even above the age of thirteen." Paolo sniffled, his hollow gaze slowly turning down towards his hands as their screams rang in his ears.

"And I-"

Huff

"And I watched-"

HUFF

"There blood just poured onto my hands and they made us watch-"

HUFF

Paolo's breathing grew ragged as he clutched his chest, and David gently pulled him back, guiding him to sit down.

"Just calm down, Paolo." David said, his own expression tearful, knowing all too well the weight of the pain Paolo carried.

"Marco is not at fault for what happened," Louis finally said, turning toward Paolo, who shot him a fierce glare.

"But he-"

"We all lost something. You aren't the only one, so stop acting like it," Louis continued, gesturing toward Jeremiah as Paolo lowered his head in reluctant acknowledgement.

"I didn't mean it like that Jeremiah-"

"Nah, it's fine," Jeremiah said, struggling to maintain his usual composure, but faltering under the weight of his coven's betrayal, which pierced his heart.

"But I think we should give Marco a chance." Jeremiah added, finally turning toward the boy as Marco lifted his cautious gaze.

"It's hard walking into the family with everyone staring at you. I think Louis knows exactly what I mean." Jeremiah admitted, remembering how some members even today had looked at him as if questioning his loyalty.

"I do, and I think Jeremiah's right." Louis said, walking over to the warlock and patting his shoulder reassuringly.

"We've got to give Marco a chance to prove himself, just like Johnny and the boss gave all of us," Louis said, clenching his fists to emphasize the point to Paolo, who rubbed his eyes in frustration.

"Thank you-"

"But you're wrong," Louis interrupted, side-eyeing Marco, who flinched at the intensity in his gaze.

"We all know Benny, except you, and we all know he would never leave unless one of two things happened." Louis revealed, shaking his head as if to show that his opinion didn't matter anymore.

"One: he was killed, which I don't think is even possible at this point."

"Or two: someone's holding him back."

At the end of his statement, everyone instinctively returned their gaze to the door, and Marco immediately took a cautious step forward.

"Are you f*cking crazy-"

"We aren't door-to-door salesmen; we're mobsters," Louis said, stating the obvious, while Marco remained completely unaware of the darker side of the profession, too caught up in its glamor.

"We do our job for the family, so Jeremiah-"

"Already on it."

BAM

The door burst open as Jeremiah strode in, two grimoires hovering behind him, their pages flipping rapidly as he scanned the room.

"I'll use a detection spell and-"

"Found him!" David exclaimed, all of their heads snapping toward the mutant as he gestured excitedly toward the bathroom conveniently located next to the front door.

"She-" Benny weakly said, rubbing his face while he hung limply from the radiator.

"BENNY!" Louis yelled, stumbling over to the boy and immediately coming to his aide.

"She has-"

"I knew it, I totally called it," Paolo interjected, smirking at Marco, who merely rolled his eyes in response.

"She has my-"

"What the hell happened?" Jeremiah asked, an eyebrow rising as he sort of flicked the handcuffs still attached to Benny's reddened wrist.

"She has my gun."

Click

"Now boys~" 

The words Benny had been struggling to get out were cut off as the object he had been desperately trying to hold in his bruised hands was now pointed at all of them.

Sigh

"She has your gun," Louis sighed, finally processing the words, and slowly raised his hands into the air, motioning for the others to do the same.

"Now, listen to my words very carefully," Benny's mother said, her gaze briefly flicking to Louis, who side-eyed Jeremiah, only to see him shrug as if the situation were nothing to fear.

"You have all seen what he's capable of, and that's why he will use those talents to make me proud." Benny's mother said, her eyes hollow and unsettling, as they all finally noticed the crazed intensity within them and exchanged uneasy glances.

"And I don't want you to ruin that for him."

"Ohhhhhhhhhh~" Four of them immediately said, nodding to each other as if a missing piece of the puzzle about Benny had clicked into place.

"I told ya, what did I say?" Paolo laughed, shrugging with a self-satisfied smirk, clearly enjoying the way the situation made him look a step ahead of the rest.

"Guys, she has a gun!" Marco blurted out, his voice shaking slightly as he stepped back, but the others barely glanced at him, too absorbed in their own reactions.

"Y'know, it does kinda make sense now that I've met your mom," David muttered under his breath, eyes flicking to Benny, who was still struggling to pick the lock on his handcuffs with frustration.

"Jesus, who draws a gun on a bunch of kids?" Jeremiah muttered aloud, his brows furrowed in disbelief as he glanced at the woman.

"Well, you all sort of deserve it," she said with a warm chuckle, a hint of amusement in her tone.

"Still, takes a new level of crazy," Jeremiah added, shaking his head and giving Benny a sidelong look as the boy snapped a nail and picked up another one to continue working on the handcuffs.

"She will shoot you guys." Benny interjected, his voice casual, almost as if stating an obvious fact rather than a warning.

"Your mother wouldn't endanger her child, right?" Louis said, frowning, a trace of skepticism in his tone as he shifted his gaze toward Benny's mother.

"It doesn't matter." Benny simply said, continuing to pick the lock instead of worrying about the gun pointed at them.

"Dollar says she pulls the trigger." Paolo declared suddenly, tossing a crumpled dollar onto the floor with a smirk.

"Are you serious?" Marco asked genuinely from the side, his brow furrowed as he tried to process their nonchalant reactions.

"I'll take that action, but I think she'll shoot Marco first," Jeremiah added, grinning as he tossed his own dollar onto the pile, while David dug through his pockets to join in.

Sigh

"Moxie stole all my money~" David suddenly remembered, slumping towards the nearby wall and slowly sliding down it while holding his tearful face.

"No way, she's gonna shoot Louis, no question about it," Paolo scoffed, pointing at Louis while giving Benny's mother a teasing wink.

"The guy's a mutant-" Paolo suddenly revealed, as if to give her the perfect excuse to take him out first.

"No, don't do that," Jeremiah interrupted, frowning and crossing his arms at what Paolo was trying to do.

"What are you-"

"You're trying to sway her, you bastard!" Jeremiah shouted, glaring at Paolo and realizing he was purposely tipping the odds in his favor.

"She should shoot the weakest link to make an example!" he continued, pointing at Marco, who visibly flinched at the attention.

"Nope, now that she knows he's a mutant, the trigger's definitely going to be pulled on him," Paolo said, shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"She didn't know until you blabbed it in the open-"

"Aye, what can I say, I came to win it-" 

"It's Jeremiah." Benny revealed, moving onto his fourth fingernail while the other three slowly started to bleed.

However, they all exchanged uneasy glances, knowing that Jeremiah was practically looming over Benny, just inches away, and one careless shot could easily hit him.

"I'll take that bet," Paolo said, raising an eyebrow with a smirk, clearly seeing easy money.

"Yeah, me too," Jeremiah added, nodding in agreement as if giving Benny his blessing to join in.

"Can you all stop betting, please? It's inappropriate," Louis frowned, watching Benny rifle through his pocket and toss a dollar into the center with the others.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Both Jeremiah and Paolo said in unison, waving their hands dismissively at Louis as if to shoo off his complaints.

"Listen, lady, we ain't leaving here without Benny," Paolo added, shrugging casually while his eyes never left the gun, hoping it was aimed more at Louis than him.

"Then I'm sorry that you've forced me to do this."

BANG

The sound echoed sharply through the bathroom, ricocheting off the cold, glossy tiles as the bullet cut through the air. 

For a brief, surreal moment, it seemed to condense on itself, the space around it thickening as if the air had turned to lead, before finally succumbing to gravity and clinking softly onto the floor.

Dink

The tiny, metallic note bounced across the tiles, spinning and rolling until it came to rest at the feet of a wide-eyed child, Jeremiah.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Paolo yelled, stomping his foot into the floor and clutching his hair in pure exasperation.

"Why?" Jeremiah asked, his brow furrowed as he muttered the words of a quick unlocking spell, watching the handcuffs click open with a flick of his fingers.

"She wanted to make an example out of all of you while showing she wasn't afraid to hurt me in the process." Benny said, finally rising to his feet, rubbing his bruised wrist and scooping up his scattered money.

"Well, this hasn't gone at all how I expected." Benny's mother frowned, slowly raising the gun before shrugging and tossing it casually to the side.

BANG

Everyone flinched as the bullet slammed into the wall with a sharp crack, the reverberation echoing off the bathroom tiles, while Benny's mother calmly rubbed her hands on her apron.

"Benny, I will be leaving for Germany at the end of the week, I expect you'll meet me at the train." Benny's Mother said, her tone firm but tinged with that same proud warmth.

"See you then!" She warmly said, waving at him as she made way for them all to leave.

"Bye, Mom," Benny replied, washing his hands quickly at the sink before exiting the bathroom, the others trailing behind him slowly, still processing what had just happened.

"It was nice meeting you?" David mumbled awkwardly, unsure how to properly say goodbye.

"Just go," Paolo muttered, giving him a push forward, and the others reluctantly followed behind.

Benny's mother didn't even acknowledge them after that; she simply continued packing, moving as if they weren't even there, her focus entirely elsewhere.

"Why did you come?" Benny asked, holding a briefcase at the top of the stairs as he started walking down, already in the motion of moving out.

"The boss called for you-"

"Where?

"He's at the lab-"

SIGH

"And he's already gone." Paolo muttered, shaking his head as Benny strode straight out the door, ignoring them entirely and leaving the chaos of those three days behind.

"Wait, aren't we gonna talk about-" Marco suddenly asked, watching Benny almost walk out the door before the boy abruptly halted his steps.

"Who's this?" Benny asked, stopping and casually pointing his thumb at Marco.

"I'm Marco, the boss asked me to find you-"

"Ok," Benny interrupted, his deadpan expression fixed forward as he continued counting his strides.

"He gets even weirder, if you can believe it," Paolo muttered, struggling not to glare at Maroc but giving him a small, reluctant nod.

"Sorry about that earlier, we had it under control but sort of forgot to tell you." Louis chuckled, patting his shoulder as he walked after Benny.

"Yeah, honestly, I thought you knew," Jeremiah added, shrugging and deliberately bumping into Marco's shoulder as he walked past.

"Hey, you're doing great," David said with a wide, toothy grin, giving Marco a thumbs-up before following the others out the door.

"Are we just gonna ignore the fact that his own ma just shot him-"

"YUP!"

Meanwhile At Barko's Lab,

"Hold."

"Hold."

"Hold-"

"Alexander!"

"Hold."

Alexander continued speaking, his voice calm yet edged with a cruel curiosity, his bloodshot eyes scanning every contorted movement of Ricky as he clawed desperately at his own throat. 

Each motion revealed the horrifying struggle within him, his body tearing apart in unnatural ways, only to stitch itself back together again, the jagged seams of flesh and muscle folding and snapping as if mocking the laws of nature, and Alexander carefully watched it all as if waiting for his breaking point.

Then, as if Ricky's eyes slowly started to lose their light, Alexander's eyes gleamed.

"NOW!" Alexander bellowed, his voice cutting through the lab like a whip as he whipped his gaze toward Barko. 

Without a second thought, Barko slammed his paw down on the nearby button, the machinery whirring and sparks flying as the electricity surging through the tank abruptly stopped.

THUD

However, instead of cushioning his landing, Ricky smacked into the floor with a sickening thud, his body convulsing violently as his throat spasmed uncontrollably.

BLERGH

Then, in the next second, a thick, foul jet of the viscous goo shot from his mouth, spewing from both stomach and lungs in a choking vomit that coated the floor below him.

BLERGH

BLERGH

BLERGH

Each gag tore through him like a physical force, his chest heaving violently and his abdomen convulsing as though trying to expel every trace of the vile substance.

His breaths were ragged, desperate, coming in stuttering gasps as nausea and pain collided in a relentless storm as he struggled to even get a breath in.

The worst part, however, was the acrid stench of the goo that clung to the air.

Berating Ricky's already sensitive senses as his fingers clawed at the hard floor instinctively, digging in as if seeking something to anchor him while his body shuddered uncontrollably.

His convulsions came in relentless waves, forcing him to vomit again and again, each spasm wringing more from his lungs and stomach whenever he thought it was finally over. 

For several minutes, he remained crumpled on the floor.

Feeling like a newborn, drenched in sweat and utterly at the mercy of his own body's violent purge.

"How are you even alive?" Barko could only ask, staring at him with a shock that defied science itself.

BLERGH

"It won't stop, it won't-" Ricky muttered, his words barely coherent, twisting his head to the side as though the motion might stave off the relentless vomiting.

BLERGH

But there was no stopping it, even at times when it should've been over.

His body seized again and again, each convulsion forcing up more of the vile goo, his stomach heaving as he gasped for ragged air. 

All while Alexander's hand rested lightly on his leg, a grounding presence amid the vomit storm, though Ricky barely noticed, lost entirely to the horrid feeling of continuously gagging.

"There, there, Ricky, let it all out-"

BLREGH

10 minutes later,

After another grueling few minutes of expelling the horrid liquid, Ricky lay motionless on the floor, his eyes fixed blankly on the ceiling. 

For exactly three hours, on the dot, he had endured a relentless form of torture.

One that not only achieved the desired results but would later be recognized as one of the most effective methods to subdue meta-humans. 

For now, however, Ricky could only stare at the aftermath, undeniable proof of the brutal success of the ordeal.

Vitality: 69→74 (Middle realm of Superhuman.)

Over those grueling hours, Ricky had gained more vitality than he would have in an entire year of training under Alexander, and the realization left him both awed and unsettled. 

After enduring it all, he understood with stark clarity that there was no way he could ever abandon this form of training.

Not when the results it yielded were so overwhelmingly effective.

"Fascinating, I can already see your body thrumming with life." Alexander whispered, his eyes fixed on Ricky's skin, which seemed to shimmer faintly with an otherworldly glow.

"These results are unbelievable," Barko muttered, his paw tracing over the printed pages from his machine as he studied Ricky's reactions intently.

"This-.......my god, I've been understanding the X-Gene completely wrong." Barko whispered, a sudden realization lighting up his expression as he bolted to the side, caught between shock and exhilaration.

"I'VE BEEN ENTIRELY WRONG!" Barko shouted, laughing like a man possessed, his excitement making him bound around the lab like a hyperactive dog before he finally bolted into his office nearby, slamming the door behind him.

"...."

However, Ricky continued staring up at the ceiling, his eyes tracking the faint flicker of the lab lights as he slowly turned toward Alexander, marveling at the raw vitality radiating from himself.

"You were right-"

But the moment the words left his mouth, Ricky shot upright, and Alexander jerked back, their heads snapping toward the presence that had seemingly materialized behind them.

"Do you-"

"Yeah." Ricky muttered, his eyes glowing faintly as he slowly rose, slicking back his disheveled hair.

"Aye, the rat hiding in the back, stop f*cking around and-" Ricky scowled, striding toward the entrance, only to halt abruptly, frozen in place.

Because there, before his eyes, stood someone he never could have expected in his wildest dreams.

"Mrs. Costello?" Ricky asked, his voice barely masking his disbelief as he stared at the elderly woman who was the matriarch of the Costello family.

"Oh Ricky, it's nice to see you again." Mrs. Costello smiled warmly, her appearance alone disarming Ricky who looked around as if there was an excuse lying around.

"Though, it would be nicer to see you with some clothes on." Mrs. Costello then promptly frowned, her eyes trailing down as he immediately ran over to the side.

In the next second, Ricky returned with a robe draped over his body, forcing a tight smile as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I didn't mean-what are you even doing here-and about the clothes-"

"Ricky, it's alright," Mrs. Costello chuckled, waving her hand as if to dismiss any excuses and shaking her head. 

"But my, what a lovely place this is." Mrs. Costello added sarcastically, her eyes scanning the array of horrific torture devices Barko had designed to push Ricky's body to its limits.

Cough

"Yeah, it's, uh-"

"Would you mind sitting outside with me? I found this marvelous bench-"

"Yeah, of course, sure," Ricky quickly said, urging her forward as he turned to Barko to give him a glare, only to see the dog excitedly cheering in his office.

"I shall hold down the fort!" Alexander revealed, giving a thumbs-up, and Ricky returned the gesture before they slowly walked out of the lab. 

However, contrary to his words, Alexander's eyes darted around the room before he hurried to a nearby window, peering out as he watched the two make their way to the bench that overlooked the ocean.

Now privy to the scene of Mrs. Costello strolling to the bench and Ricky awkwardly following behind her, only sitting down once she had, Alexander raised an eyebrow. 

The gerbil had almost never seen Ricky behave this way, but it was obvious that his awkwardness stemmed entirely from guilt.

"....."

Then, once they were seated, an awkward silence settled over them. Mrs. Costello and even Alexander assumed Ricky would immediately take control of the conversation, but he didn't.

Ricky simply sat there, staring out at the ocean as if the presence of the woman beside him had become his kryptonite.

"Did you know that the Costello family comes from a long line of cobblers?" Mrs. Costello finally asked, breaking the awkward tension with a light hearted question.

"Huh?" Ricky laughed, caught off guard by the unexpected words, fully bracing himself for the full force of her fury. 

What truly disarmed him, though, was the warm smile she wore as she met his green eyes, softening the tension that had knotted his shoulders so high up to his guilty features.

"Before we emigrated to America, in Calabria, our family were cobblers." Mrs. Costello simply said, chuckling as she turned her gaze back to the shore before them.

"Frank never told me-"

"Frank never talked about our family's time in Calabria, to anyone," Mrs. Costello sighed, her eyes drifting to the horizon, a faint shadow of regret softening her features.

"Yeah, right, 'cause of the whole Sicilian thing," Ricky muttered, rubbing the back of his head as he leaned against the bench while ducking his head.

"Sometimes I-" Mrs. Costello's voice caught slightly, her throat tightening as she struggled to keep composed, before she sniffled softly.

Sniff

"Sometimes I wish I raised him to be more proud of that fact, of our roots." Mrs. Costello admitted, her gaze settling on the ocean.

"But, shoes were very different from how they are now."

"You see, back then, a pair of shoes could last a lifetime in the right hands." Mrs. Costello reminisced, her voice calm but carrying the weight of generations.

"Not many people could afford a nice pair of shoes, and cobblers arose to fix the sole pair every working man wore." Mrs. Costello explained, her hands resting lightly on her lap as if gesturing to the invisible craftsmanship of the Costello ancestors.

"Then poof, we just appeared." She laughed lightly, her hands dancing through the air as if the entire family had spontaneously combusted.

"It is where Costello comes from, after all, since Costo means price, and the suffix -ello was often used for craftsmen or family diminutives," Mrs. Costello explained, her eyes gleaming with amusement as she traced how their name even formed.

"Woah." Ricky muttered, scratching the back of his head, his green eyes narrowing as he tried to picture the old world she described.

"There was a need and our family provided it."

"But the Costello's believed, without any doubt, that within our family's hands, we could remedy that," Mrs. Costello said, her voice carrying a quiet pride as she looked out over the water, eyes distant yet focused.

"That we could turn any broken pair of shoes into a perfect shoe that would make people just marvel," Mrs Costello added, a small smile tugging at her lips as if she could still see her ancestors at work.

"Of course, I always knew that was impossible." Mrs. Costello admitted, chuckling softly, shaking her head with the fond resignation of someone who had inherited impossible dreams.

"In fact, we were actually very terrible cobblers," Mrs. Costello laughed heartily, pressing her hand against her heart while shaking her head, the sound echoing softly against the ocean breeze.

"But." 

Mrs Costello paused suddenly, raising a finger as she turned her gaze toward Ricky, her eyes catching the sunlight like sparks of mischief.

"Not a single Costello ever believed they couldn't perfect the shoe." Mrs. Costello revealed, filled with this quiet conviction that seemed to hang in the air between them.

"It drove a lot of our family mad, if you can believe it." Mrs. Costello shrugged, shaking her head with a light sigh.

"This isn't about shoes, is it?" Ricky asked with a knowing smile, watching Mrs. Costello side-eye him before turning back to the ocean.

"Of course it's not." Mrs. Costello scoffed, watching Ricky chuckle off to the side of the bench.

"Like most things in New York nowadays, this is about you." She gestured lightly, a playful wink easing some of the tension in Ricky's shoulders.

"Now, why did I have to hear from Johnny that you would be delaying Frank's funeral?" Her tone was firm but carried a warmth that made it hard to argue.

"F*ck." Ricky muttered, running a hand down his face, his frustration barely contained. This wasn't how he wanted their conversation to unfold.

"It's okay, I'm not mad." She chuckled softly, reaching over to pat his cheek, the gesture oddly grounding amidst the weight of their discussion.

*DI-

'F*ck you.' Ricky thought to the system, turning away from the screen as if to not even acknowledge it.

"I know how hard it is to be in your position," Mrs. Costello said softly, her eyes meeting his with quiet understanding. 

"After all, I've known Lucky since he was a teenager." She laughed heartily at the comment, realizing just how old she had grown in recent times.

"But I would like to know why." Mrs. Costello added, leaning forward slightly, her curiosity tempered with genuine concern.

"Can I be honest with you?" Ricky said, suddenly standing to his feet as he started to pace in front of her while his fingers slicked through his hair.

"Of course-" Mrs. Costello replied, tilting her head slightly, her eyes following his restless movements.

"I'm scrambling." Ricky revealed, turning toward the old woman, his voice low but carrying the weight of his frustration, and she slowly nodded her head in understanding.

"And the weird thing is that I don't think I've ever been this organized in my entire life, not until right now," Ricky said, spreading his arms as if to physically manifest the chaos inside his mind. 

Until suddenly, Ricky's frustration boiled over, and he began venting every ounce of it toward the elderly woman.

However, instead of adding her thoughts, Mrs. Costello sat there quietly.

Her hands folded in her lap, listening intently to everything he had to say, never interrupting, never judging, only offering a calm, steady presence as he unraveled before her.

"I just always feel like I'm in this f*cking rush."

"It feels like I've needed to do something every moment of every day since I've gotten back."

"I'm not trying to run away from my problems and I don't think I am." 

"But I just keep letting it happen, over and over again." 

"I just keep making these stupid ass decisions and every time, I keep telling myself that if I do a little more it won't happen again."

"And then it happens again."

"But earlier today I realized that I have to go even further, push even further."

"And I feel like if I'm complacent for too long, something's gonna catch up to me and I'm gonna lose something else."

"I just don't wanna lose anything."

"I just want everything to just go right, is that so much to f*cking ask for?"

Huff

Ricky unleashed every thought and frustration that had been swirling in his mind since early that morning, each word tumbling out in a torrent. 

The relentless intensity of his training had suddenly forced him to confront a glaring truth: he hadn't truly allowed himself a moment of rest since his return.

And the one time he had tried to, just to give himself a brief moment of peace, Selene's problems had appeared out of nowhere while shattering it entirely.

"No, it's not." Mrs. Costello chuckled, shrugging, a wry smile tugging at her lips as if she too wished for perfection.

"And I'm sorry, since I'm not gonna lie, I didn't even think about how you'd feel since-"

"Ricky, honey, would you sit back down?" Mrs. Costello interrupted gently, patting the seat next to her as Ricky obeyed, sliding back into the bench with a reluctant chuckle.

"Now, where was I?" She continued, her tone unapologetically steady as she resumed her story, while Ricky couldn't help but laugh softly.

"Oh, yes, when we settled in New York, I already knew that Frank wasn't going to be a cobbler like his father and his father before that." Mrs. Costello said, her gaze softening as she recalled the past.

"I knew the very second he came home with Lucky that my boy would become a mobster." She continued but with a small, proud smile forming on her lips.

"And Frank-.......he was always so good with people." She added, her voice trailing into a slow pause, as if the memory itself choked her breath.

"He was always able to understand a problem, regardless of where they sat at the table," Mrs. Costello continued, her voice calm yet reflective.

"I admired that side of him." She shook her head slightly, smiling at the memory.

"I love him for that, and I would've loved him if he was anything else." Mrs. Costello's tone softened, but then grew more serious.

"But I was wrong." Mrs. Costello revealed, letting the words hang in the air, deliberately omitting which part of her statement might not have been entirely true.

"However, when he became your godfather, gosh, you were all he ever talked about." She continued, skipping over that last part with a hint of warmth breaking through.

"He would brag about you all the time during dinner." Mrs. Costello added, her eyes twinkling with fond recollection.

"It was to the point where sometimes, I would have to throw my shoe at him to make him stop," Mrs. Costello chuckled, shaking her head at the memory.

"And then Eddie, oh that boy, he only made it worse." She added with a haggard sigh, laughing softly afterwards as she recalled the chaos of their dinners.

"Besides food, you were the light in that boy's eyes, and he would just sparkle whenever you were the topic." She continued, her voice warm with nostalgia as if she never wanted to part from this topic.

"I think that is how Frank and Eddy got so close in my grandson's later years, you really pulled them together." Mrs. Costello said, her voice soft but firm, a mixture of pride and nostalgia in her tone.

"Junior, well, at the time he never understood, and then, all of a sudden, now he won't shut up about you." She scoffed, shaking her head with a small, amused smile.

"They praised you as if you are the most captivating person to ever walk through any door," She added, her eyes glinting with sincerity and Ricky just sort of sat there.

"But I didn't come here to stroke your ego," She said, leaning forward slightly while giving him a playful wink.

"I came here to tell you you're not the shadow you've convinced yourself you are," Mrs. Costello chuckled, gently patting his hands as Ricky instinctively started to speak, his lips parting.

"Wha-"

"Let me finish." Mrs. Costello interrupted, her tone calm but firm that these words needed to be said.

"Yes ma'am."

"Now, you certainly aren't perfect." She continued, her eyes watching him laugh out hysterical as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

"You have your shortcomings just like the rest of us," Mrs. Costello said, her tone even but warm, as if acknowledging a universal truth.

"And for a long time, I always asked myself, who is Ricky Luciano?" Her eyes softened as she glanced out toward the horizon.

"But I don't think I ever understood until I heard you joined the cloth, honorary or not." She let the words hang for a moment, letting their weight sink in.

"Of course, I knew who you were, especially after that Harlem fiasco a couple years back," Mrs. Costello added, raising an eyebrow with a hint of amusement as Ricky rubbed the back of his neck.

"But the first time I ever saw you was at the funeral." Mrs. Costello began, her words purposely mixed that way as if to confuse him on purpose.

"Now, later, when I was told Eddie would receive not only a funeral, but a Catholic funeral, I was shocked, to say the least." She shook her head slightly, a tinge of pain creeping into her expression.

"I knew what sin Eddy had committed and, although I loved him with all my heart, I knew that some things were out of my hands." Her gaze softened as she admitted this, ducking her gaze at the shoreline.

"Even though grandmothers are supposed to protect everything they love with everything they have." She sighed, the weight of that expectation lingering in the air.

"Now, although I saw you at Eddy's funeral, I first truly saw you at Rocco's," she suddenly revealed, her voice steady but carrying weight, catching Ricky completely off guard since he didn't remember her being there.

"I was there when you stole Lucky's car and ran away like some scared little boy." Mrs. Costello purposely phrased, her eyes narrowing slightly as she watched Ricky sigh heavily at the memory, realizing she had been subtly leading him astray with her words.

"But when I saw you again, officiating Eddy's funeral, and when you said those words-" Mrs. Costello paused at the end of her sentence, truly acknowledging Ricky in that moment as she turned back to him.

"You gave Eddy something that I, his own grandmother, couldn't even give him."

"And when that sun rose, I believed in my heart that God accepted your words."

"It was then that I understood what they meant, what they all meant."

"Because that's just who you are, and I realized that fact right then."

Mrs. Costello seemed to summarize Ricky in her own unique way, her gaze steady on the man who kept ducking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. 

It was as if he were caught between humility and unease, teetering on the edge of both, unable to fully settle into either as she deliberately made it difficult for him to find solid footing.

"You're a very complex person." Mrs. Costello smiled, her eyes soft yet piercing, reflecting the turmoil etched across Ricky's face. 

"You do things that people would never think another could accomplish, yet at the same time, you stumble at the simplest tasks, the ones even a child could handle." She paused, letting the words settle before her lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. 

"But I have never been so happy to be proven wrong as when I saw you before Eddy's grave." Mrs. Costello said, almost relieved at this statement alone.

"Because that's when I realized." Mrs. Costello said, grabbing his cheek and turning his gaze towards her teary gaze.

"Ricky, honey, you were his perfect shoe." 

Sniff

"You were his perfect shoe," Mrs. Costello said, her voice trembling slightly as she swallowed back a sniffle.

Then, as if mirroring Ricky's earlier torrent of words, she launched into her own stream of confession as the tears slipped freely down her cheeks.

"You have grown into such a wonderful man."

"You were very around the edges, but at your core, you loved your family."

"You loved everyone that was under you, around you." 

"And although it was always asked of you, it was so hard to uncover it."

"I'd like to think that Frank helped you, although I don't think it was as much as I wish to believe—but I believe he helped you nonetheless." Mrs. Costello finished, her thumb gently rubbing Ricky's cheek as he looked at her with a storm of conflicting emotions.

"Ricky, you didn't kill my Franky."

"I-"

"And you didn't kill my Eddy."

"They died from their own choices," Mrs. Costello said, her voice firm as she gently shook his cheek, as if to drive the truth into him.

"I will never blame you, I can't."

"You've brought me and my family much joy, so much love."

"It was you that brought Frank back to where he came from, no one else, and I will always adore you for that." Mrs. Costello revealed, knowing that deep down, although he was a mobster.

Franky would always be her cobbler.

It was how she wanted to remember him and no one, not even Ricky, would ever tell her otherwise.

"That's why I came here today, not to forgive you." Mrs. Costello sighed, slowly taking her hand from his cheek with only a warm smile adorning her wrinkled features.

"But to tell you that it's time that you finally forgave yourself."

The words sank into his ears, their weight pressing him down until his gaze fell to the sand beneath him.

"It's time, Ricky."

"It's time that you moved on."

"I love how much you cherish them, but do not let them shackle you."

"People around you will die, whether you want them to or not. It's a part of life."

"Even though I would love to say that everyone will live forever, I think we both know that isn't the case."

"We struggle, all of us, even more so with those in Harlem using cocaine." Mrs. Costello laughed heartily, deliberately teasing him about the topic, and Ricky couldn't help but facepalm in response.

"I'm really sorry you had to hear about that." Ricky chuckled, wiping his face as if trying to stop himself from laughing.

"You are a very imperfect man, but we're all imperfect," she revealed, shrugging as if acknowledging the most burdensome truth of human existence.

"We strive for perfection we will never attain and it is something we live with everyday." Mrs. Costello sighed, leaning back on the bench before slowly turning back to him.

"It's not your fault-"

"I-"

"You can sit there and tell me it is, like you're trying to do now, but it's not." Mrs Costello laughed, her voice was steady, yet gentle, and carried this weight of experience you could only live a long time to have.

"And if you need to hear the words to soothe your soul, then I forgive you." She offered a small, reassuring smile, letting the words hang in the salty air between them.

"I was never mad or disappointed in you, especially after what I've heard you have in store for Frank." She smiled warmly, nudging him as if to loosen his stiff form.

"Not only are you building the funeral but going so far as to bring a real cardinal from the Vatican?" Mrs. Costello asked, her voice tinged with awe as she regarded Ricky's dedication.

"It means a lot to me; faith means as much as my family," Mrs. Costello chuckled, slowly grabbing the cross necklace adorning her neck.

"And the fact that you respected both fills me with a joy some people will never know in their entire lifetimes,"

Then, for a long time afterwards, Ricky remained quietly still, his thoughts churning beneath the surface. 

Mrs. Costello made no move to interrupt or fill the silence; she simply sat beside him on the bench, letting the gentle sound of the waves fill the space between them. 

The sun dipped lower, casting a warm, golden glow over the water, and the breeze tugged softly at their hair.

Until Ricky finally spoke his mind.

"I'm sorry but I'm still not gonna stop." Ricky said, showing his remorse but unable to lie in front of the woman who he stole two precious people from.

SIGH

"I know you won't, I'm not an idiot." Mrs. Costello said, her tone heavy but understanding as she slowly rose from the bench, the sand crunching softly beneath her feet.

Ricky mirrored her movements, rising to follow her as they began to walk along the shore.

"And I tried to get Junior to leave-"

"I know, but he's stubborn, just like his father and his brother before him," Mrs. Costello said, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

"Now, don't be such a pussy and escort me over to my car." Mrs. Costello chuckled winking at him as Ricky couldn't help but cackle out a laugh. 

Slowly, he extended his hand toward her, a small, genuine smile breaking across his face as he offered his arm.

"Of course m'lady, right this way."

Then, as they strolled across the bridge, they just talked. 

Their conversation was completely all over the place, from one random topic to another with nothing serious or nothing heavy, yet it was quietly comforting.

For the first time since this morning, the weight pressing down on Ricky's chest seemed to loosen until the knots tied within his stomach were completely untangled.

"Thanks, I think I needed that." Ricky said, smiling at the old woman who patted his arm in relief.

"God, this f*cking morning really got my head in a swirl and I just really needed someone to level me out." Ricky sighed, hugging Mrs. Costello slightly as the old woman laughed at the sudden action.

"Good, and about Junior." Mrs. Costello said, slowly breaking free once and stopping right before her car.

"Yeah, listen, I tried to-"

Slap

However, to Ricky's complete shock, her reaction wasn't one of forgiveness but of pure fury. She slapped him across the face with a sharp crack, her eyes blazing.

"Please don't ever ask my blood to leave this family, it runs through it just as much as yours does." Mrs. Costello sternly lectured, waving her finger directly in his face without any fear.

"All I ask is that you respect that."

"Woah, uh, alright, Mrs. Costello." Ricky muttered, completely caught off guard and rubbing his cheek with a weird expression.

"Now, look after Junior for me, he's kind of an idiot." Mrs. Costello said, patting his other cheek before turning towards the car.

"Aren't we all?" Ricky asked, opening the door for her as she plopped down onto the seat.

"And don't be afraid to visit, my door is always open." Mrs. Costello said, rolling down the window and slowly putting on her sunglasses.

"Of course, in fact-"

"Espically that Raven of yours, my, you are so lucky." She laughed heartily, putting a hand to her lips as if to hide the smile.

"What a charmer she is." Mrs. Costello added, winking at Ricky who facepalmed at this single meaning.

"So, she's gotten to you too-"

"She's gotten to every woman in the family, but she's good company."

"Better than no company at all," Mrs. Costello said with a frown, squinting at Ricky as he leaned against the window.

"I promise I'll drop by more, swear," Ricky replied, ducking his head through the window to offer her a warm, genuine smile.

"Good, now, hands off, I have a lunch that I would never miss."

With a playful swat, Ricky retracted his hands as the car slowly drove off, leaving only a dumbfounded smile on his face along with the trailing fumes.

HUFF

HUFF

"Did I miss her parting?!" Alexander shouted, scurrying after them.

"What did she say at the end? Was it wise?" Alexander continued, breathless and still captivated, having been enthralled from the start only to watch them suddenly cross the bridge and go out of earshot.

"She called me a pussy-"

"I heard that part, what of the last interaction, what of her farewell words?" Alexander quickly asked, climbing up Ricky's robes with a desperate expression.

"Why-"

"I yearn for the wisdom of my elders," Alexander revealed, scrambling onto Ricky's shoulder and peering up at him with eager eyes.

"You're older than her-"

"Shhhhhhhhh~" Alexander shushed, placing his paw over Ricky's lips as if the words themselves were an insult.

"You are never old enough to learn." Alexander continued, nodding solemnly before patting Ricky's cheek and plopping down comfortably on his shoulder.

"Uh, ok?" Ricky muttered, letting out a small laugh at the gerbil's antics as he turned his gaze back towards the lab.

"Wanna take a quick smoke break?" Ricky asked, fiddling through his bathrob only to immediately frown.

 "Are you f*cking kidding me?" Ricky said, disbelief heavy in his voice as he grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds, only for Alexander to snatch one first.

"How did you even-.....I just f*cking bought this robe-"

"Shhhhhhhhhhh~" Alexander interrupted, shushing him while calmly munching on the seeds.

"You're a lunatic." Ricky muttered, shaking his head in equal parts exasperation and amusement.

"Aren't we all?"

"I see what you did there." 

"What did I do?"

15 minutes later,

"Then within the great bird war-"

"Alexander, we're not making that a thing-"

"It is decided!" Alexander immediately interrupted, chopping the air as if to cut off his words.

"No, I'm serious, I don't want my kids to wake up to a f*cking bird battlefield-"

"It is decided!" Alexander said again, watching Ricky roll his eyes while popping some sunflower seeds into his mouth.

However, before Ricky could even retort, his eyes picked up something in his peripheral vision that made him throw away his words.

"F*cking finally!" Ricky yelled, spreading his arms wide toward the one kid who had been trailing behind, Benny now slowly walking ahead with five other kids following him.

"What the hell took you so goddamn long, huh?" Ricky demanded, poking at Benny's chest and waiting for whatever excuse he had for him.

"My mother knocked me unconscious and kept me locked away in our bathroom so that I would be forced to join the Reich." Benny revealed, his tone flat but edged with the weight of what had happened.

Ricky just sort of sat there for a second, turning to the others who slowly nodded as if to confirm his words as he turned back to the deadpan Benny.

"You're one of those Aryans?" Ricky asked, the first question forming from the jumble of thoughts racing through his mind.

"I'm a mobster." Benny flatly said, staring up at Ricky who laughed at the single thing he wanted to hear.

"Y'know what? Fair enough." Ricky muttered, rubbing his blond hair as the boy blankly looked up at him. 

"Aye listen, I gathered you here to-"

"What is he doing here?" Ricky interrupted himself, pointing sharply at Marco, whose presence completely derailed the train of his initial words.

"He said you told him to join us-"

"Why the f*ck would I put Marco with you lunatics?" Ricky frowned, gesturing broadly at the group, all of them clearly trouble magnets.

"He ain't even on your level, let alone your league." Ricky said, turning towards Marco who stepped forward.

"I can take it-"

"Shut it." Ricky raised a single finger, watching Marco's mouth snap shut as he squinted.

"I told you to tell Johnny to get me Benny, not bring him here yourself." Ricky lectured, pushing the other kids aside and stepping forward to look down at him.

"But they're runners-"

"These ain't regular runners, from today onwards, they're my rogues." Ricky revealed, spreading out his arms at the new positions he had made up just for them.

"What's a rogue-"

"Shut it," Paolo whispered, mimicking Ricky and jabbing his elbow into David's side.

"Alexander came up with the name, pretty cool, right?" Ricky gestured, nudging Benny, who paused for a second before nodding in agreement.

"Listen, if I'm being honest, you're my pet project," Ricky said suddenly, turning away from Marco and gesturing toward the five.

"You're the culmination of everything I want for this family: two mutants, one warlock, one Italian, and one random guy, who I guess is German now." Ricky said, gesturing to every single one of them until his eyes landed on Benny.

"Now, you guys are the example, okay?"

"Because throughout the entire family, the Sicilians are just unable to get along with the others, and vice versa." Ricky revealed, his hands sweeping over all of them as if physically gathering their attention and building them up.

"But you five are gonna change that." Ricky leaned forward slightly, his eyes glinting with a mix of challenge and expectation.

"You guys will be my rogues, my guys." Ricky said, almost demanding it from their very beings. 

"You'll be in the family but you'll be answering directly from me and no one else." 

"They'll be talking sh*t about being unable to work together and then one of them will say 'Well, if those rogues can get along then why can't we?' and then they'll get along." Ricky smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching as he held back a laugh, and Alexander covered his mouth while staring at them.

"Really?" David asked, his eyes lighting up with a mix of awe and disbelief, already imagining a world where all the mutant kids looked up to him as a leader.

"F*ck no, I'm just messing with you!" Ricky laughed hysterically, his voice echoing off the walls, and Alexander joined in with a high-pitched cheer. 

David immediately ducked his head, cheeks burning with embarrassment, while the others exchanged exasperated looks at his naivety.

"Nah, I'm grooming you all for my inner circle." Ricky revealed, his words landing like a thunderclap in their minds. 

Almost instantly, every one of them lifted their heads, eyes wide, while Marco stood off to the side, completely slack-jawed.

"But, y'know, you ain't got enough under your belt." Ricky said, nudging Jeremiah, who wanted to argue but could only stare, stars in his eyes.

"So, here's the thing, the Luciano family is gonna start dealing in narcotics, heroin." Ricky said, his gaze sweeping the group, lingering on Paolo, who seemed to fully grasp the gravity of the drug's impact.

"The first shipment hits tonight, and all of you are gonna watch it," Ricky said, his tone calm but carrying an edge that made them stand up a little straighter, expecting some hidden catch. 

"That's it, all you gotta do is watch the f*cking truck until Lil Tony comes to collect the goods." Ricky shrugged, his instructions deliberately simple, leaving no room for confusion. 

"Now, I don't think there is anyone stupid in this city to steal from me, which makes this a cakewalk." Ricky shrugged, thinking only a complete idiot would actually steal from him.

"But let's be clear, I need you to not f*ck this up." Ricky said, really wanting to get this notion through all of their small skulls.

"Don't f*ck this up."

"These stupid boring jobs are how you work your way up, understand?" Ricky sighed, remembering what Lucky had him doing earlier on.

"Yes, boss!" They all said in unison, their tones varying but the message all the same.

"Good, Johnny's gonna brief you more when you get your asses back but remember, just really remember one thing." Ricky waved off to the side, then snapped his finger back toward all of them, his gaze sharp and commanding.

"Dont."

"F*ck."

"This."

"Up."

"Capesh?" Ricky asked again, spreading his arms wide, his tone half-commanding, half-playful as the group exchanged glances and nodded in unison.

"Great, now scram, I got sh*t to do," Ricky added, shooing them off with a flick of his hand. 

One by one, they walked away, everyone except Marco.

"No-"

"But I'm ready-"

"I said no, Marco, you ain't ready to roll with them yet," Ricky said, waving his hand dismissively as he started walking down the bridge toward the lab.

"Go run for Johnny. Tell'em I want you handling information, he'll know what I mean." Ricky added, sliding his hands into his pockets as he continued forward.

Marco lowered his gaze, fists tightening at his sides as he watched the group of five laughing and joking together before sprinting after them.

"When will we conquer something Ricky? I'm having withdrawals," Alexander eagerly asked, patting his cheek, his excitement barely contained as they strolled down the bridge back toward the lab.

"I don't know the next time I'll get a moment like this, and I want to be ready since once Frank's funeral happens, I'm going to make my move." Ricky said, knowing that everything would start at the very end of his godfather's funeral.

"That's when we're gonna conquer the f*cking Olympics."

Meanwhile At Fogwell's Gym,

BAM

BAM

"YOUR LEFT, YOU-GOD DAMMIT HENRY!" Fogwell screamed, throwing his hat onto the ground in complete distress.

"Sorry, Mr. Fogwell." Henry heaved, apologizing as his sparring partner groaned, the blows still brutal even if they landed sloppy.

"I don't want your f*cking apologies. When you come under that kind of jab, I need you to pivot and-"

"Mr. Fogwell, it's urgent!" His apprentice quickly yelled, running to the old Irishman's side as the latter scowled. 

"Something better be burning." Fogwell bitterly said, smacking his wrinkled lips as the man turned back to the entrance.

"It's-"

"Maxy?" Fogwell seemingly asked, rubbing his eyes at the young boy he used to train back in the day suddenly all grown up.

"H-Hey, Mr. Fogwell." Max said sheepishly, his eyes darting toward the entrance as he hesitated, one foot slipping inside before quickly pulling it back.

"Gee wiz, it's been what? Eight years?" Fogwell laughed, hurrying over to get a better look at him, his voice breaking as emotion welled up.

"Ever since-"

"Ever since my father passed on, I remember." Max's eyes grew grave, his body refusing to cross the threshold of the gym.

"You always had a killer right hook, just like him." Fogwell laughed awkwardly, ducking his head in shame, the guilt still eating at him for what had happened.

"Golly, it's freaky how similar you guys are-"

"C-Could we skip this part of the conversation?" Max blurted, rubbing at the corners of his eyes before lifting his gaze back to the old man smiling at him.

"Of course. Now, what can I do for ya?" Fogwell said, easing to his side, gripping his shoulders tightly before giving him a firm shake.

"I-"

"Oh god~" Max whimpered, his knees buckling as he crumpled to the ground, the sight nearly stopping the old man's heart.

"Maxy, what's wrong-"

"I messed up, Mr. Fogwell, I messed up real bad." Max sniffled, rubbing at his eyes to dam the tears as Fogwell crouched, trying to catch his gaze.

"Maxy-"

"I didn't think he'd come back and-"

"Maxy-"

"He just appeared-"

"MAXY!"

"What did you do?" Fogwell asked with a grave expression, a foreboding weight settling in as Max lifted his tearful eyes toward him.

"I got mixed up with Mr. Luciano-"

"Please, for the love of God, tell me it wasn't Ricky 'Slick' Luciano?" Fogwell's voice shook, his heart freezing when Max only lowered his gaze in reluctant agreement.

"Jesus Christ, Maxy." Fogwell huffed, clutching his face before a sudden realization cut through his haze just as Max opened his mouth to explain.

"It was an accident-"

"Why are you alive, what does he want?" Fogwell snapped, nearly shaking the words out of him as the other boxers in the gym froze mid-swing, every pair of eyes locking on the trembling kid.

"He said-"

GULP

"He said that he wanted to 'squash this once and for all' he wanted me to get-"

"He wants a sit-down with the entire community?" Fogwell asked, his voice thick with disbelief, because the idea of Ricky, the most unreasonable man in their world, even suggesting such a thing felt impossible. 

And yet, it was the very dream most of the Irish-Americans had been hoping for years.

"And he wanted me to do it, ME!" Max screamed, clutching his chest as his breathing suddenly grew erratic, every word broken by the gasps of hyperventilation.

"I-I barely h-have t-time t-to t-take care of siblings-"

"Maxy, it's ok, it's ok~" Fogwell heaved out a sigh of relief, pulling the troubled boy into his arms and rocking him back and forth like he was a child again.

"I'll handle it." Fogwell assured, gently patting the young man's distressed head as Max wiped at his swollen eyes.

"R-Really?" Max asked, his voice trembling with disbelief, clinging to that shred of hope.

"Of course, you know I got you." Fogwell said with a sincere smile, patting his cheek before slowly helping the boy back to his feet.

"Now, go home to your siblings, and let the old guys take it from here." Fogwell assured, shooing him away from this place that only brought him dread.

Max turned back, half-expecting it to be some cruel joke, but Fogwell only lifted a hand in a steady wave. 

The old man's expression held no mockery, only a quiet weight of promise. 

Nodding faintly, Max lowered his gaze and stepped out, his figure shrinking as he slowly disappeared into the restless streets.

"Send the word out, tell everyone taht their will be an emerganry meeting ithin the community." Fogwell suddenly said, turning back tothe gym as they all looked at each other.

"But Mr. Fogwell, he-"

"RICKY LUCIANO IS A F*CKING ANIMAL!" Fogwell orared, watching all of them flinch except Henry who held a firm expression.

"This is our one chance, our only one, to end this beef with the Lucianos once and for all." Fogwell said, clutching his shoulder as his gaze drifted aside, haunted by the memory of that night when Ricky Luciano wiped out the other families.

"No more blood. No more good men dying over a grudge that was never even ours to begin with." Fogwell's voice cracked as he huffed, wiping at teary eyes, each blink a reminder of the brothers he'd lost to the feud.

"Spread the word, I want everyone, be it a sliver or full-blooded Irish at that f*cking meeting!"

Then, at the direction of the most respected man within the Irish community, word spread like wildfire.

Since the Great Potato Famine had poured wave after wave of Irishmen and women into New York, this community had been marked by a division so sharp it bordered on a caste system.

On one side were the Shanty Irish; the poor, newly arrived immigrants who lived lives branded by hardship and the word greenhorn flung at them as both an insult and reminder of their place.

On the other were the Lace-Curtain Irish; the upwardly mobile families striving for respectability, polishing away their accents and hanging lace curtains in their windows to prove they belonged in mainstream America.

Though they shared blood, faith, and heritage, they lived in different worlds entirely. 

And if there was one thing they could agree upon, it was this: neither faction had any wish to cross the Luciano family.

But the danger within these two classes lay with those caught in between.

The root of this entire conflict didn't come from the Shanty Irish or the Lace-Curtain families, it came from one specific group: the second-generation Irish.

The sons of shanties, lacking both the wealth and polish of the lace-curtain Irish, belonged to neither camp.

They carried the hunger of their immigrant parents but none of the old-country roots to anchor them.

And it was from that restless middle, too Irish to be American yet too American to be Irish, that the discontent boiled over.

Until on this fateful night, it all came to a head and would ultimately change the community forever.

Later that night,

"Gentlemen, the time is now." 

Author's Note: Srry it took so long but I just wasn't feeling it yesterday and I didn'tlike what I wrote orignally for the Mrs. Costello scene.