"F*cking always." Ricky chuckled, glancing past Lucky as he opened the car door to reveal Chuck's theatrical design.
It was just a regular action, but his eyes widened at the sight before him.
It was as if the undead mage had poured every ounce of his power into the earth, shaping the graveyard into a cathedral of memory.
His eyes lingered on where he remembered cracked stones and weeds, only to find them nowhere in sight.
Every headstone, even those that had stood long before the Luciano family began burying their own, had its weathered slab polished to an obsidian sheen, as if even the dead had been commanded to stand in respect for Frank.
But that was only the beginning, as his eyes slowly drifted to the statues of Frank scattered across the grounds.
Ricky stood slack-jawed, staring at each one that captured him at different ages, different moods: Frank with a wide grin and a glass in hand, Frank in a sharp suit with a cigarette dangling from his lip, and Frank with tired eyes staring off as if he already knew the end was coming.
Even the trees had been reshaped.
Chuck had their branches curled into actual arches that loomed overhead, bone-white bark stripped of life due to his necrotic spellwork.
And at the center, Chuck's pièce de résistance stood waiting: a colossal monument, half-statue, half-tomb, rising like a king's mausoleum.
But that wasn't what took Ricky's breath away.
"What the-" Ricky whispered, eyes widening as he fully stepped out of the car, taking in the cherry on top.
The funeral was meant to be private, reserved only for those Mrs. Costello wanted there, along with the high-ranking members of the Luciano family.
In total, no more than a hundred people had the right to stand within the circle of chairs set before Frank's monument.
Yet Chuck had found a way to break that boundary without breaking the rules.
Over the course of the week, the undead mage had quietly spread word through the city: if anyone wanted to pay tribute to Frank Costello, all they had to do was bring flowers.
And the city answered.
Ricky just looked around at the graveyard flooded with them, filled with thousands of bouquets, piled high against the fences, nestled between statues, laid carefully at the foot of every path. Roses, lilies, carnations, violets, flowers plucked from gardens and flowers bought with the last dollar of the poor.
They just overflowed in chaotic beauty, as though the city itself had bled its colors into this one patch of ground.
It was so overwhelming that it nearly drowned out Chuck's theatrical design.
The statues, the arches, the monument, all of it seemed to drown beneath the tide of petals.
And then the wind picked up, blowing Ricky away.
Dozens upon dozens of petals broke free, carried upward in spirals.
Reds, whites, yellows, purples, and just so many colors filled the air that the sky itself seemed painted in mourning.
For once, Ricky didn't know what to say.
He just stood there with a blank stare, his usual smirk gone, caught in a moment too grand for mere words.
"Did you do this?" Lucky asked, his voice choked as he took in the scale of it before turning his eyes towards Ricky.
"It was all Chuck-"
"My master asked, and I delivered," Chuck said, popping up from the side, making Lucky flinch.
"Sh*t!" Lucky muttered, completely caught off guard by the walking, talking skeleton at his side.
"Jesus, you gotta put a bell on your neck or something." Lucky heaved, clutching his chest after nearly being scared to death.
"I'll look into that," Chuck said seriously, gazing down since he was technically hovering rather than walking.
"Aye, Chuck, great job," Ricky could only say, struggling to find more words of appreciation because these were all that would come.
"If there's anything you want, just ask," Ricky said, knowing he had to reward the undead in some way.
"I wish to come to Germany with you." Chuck said immediately, his excitement barely contained at finally getting the very thing he had hoped for in return.
"Uh-"
"I know your plan, and I simply want to watch your greatness unfold with my own hollow eyes," Chuck added quickly, his words earning Lucky a weird expression as he was still getting used to Ricky actually planning things.
"Alright, just don't cause any trouble," Ricky said, unable to deny Chuck's request after seeing all the work he'd put into the funeral.
"Never." Chuck said with a smile in his own undead way, hovering away in pure joy as Sarah immediately clawed toward him.
"NEED, NEED TO TOUCH~" Sarah whined, digging her hands into the dirt as if to pry herself free from Irene's grasp.
"Sarah-" Danielle said softly, coming to her sister's side as the redheaded furball began to tear up.
"But I waaaaaaaaaaaaaant-"
"It's working." Danielle smiled, patting her fluffy red hair, knowing how busy the skeleton always was and not wanting to interrupt him.
Sarah slowly nodded, earning a thankful gaze from Irene, who quickly pulled out some clothes to wash her dirt-streaked hands.
"Woah~" The boys said in unison, their eyes sparkling as they gazed at Chuck, who looked back and waved.
Immediately, they all turned toward each other, as if to make sure they'd all seen the same thing, before excitedly discussing it.
"I want one!" Zatanna exclaimed, tugging at Agatha's dress as the witch raised an eyebrow.
"An undead-"
"I want one just like daddy," Zatanna said excitedly, pointing at Ricky, who was looking around the graveyard.
"We'll see-"
"I can teach her if you'd like," Morgana said, stepping forward from the side as Agatha turned her gaze to the queen of Camelot.
"Of course, when she comes of age, but I could help her nonetheless." Morgana continued, a slow smile spreading across her face as Agatha caught the meaning behind her words.
"It's a lot to think about-" Agatha said, playing along, ambition slowly clouding her eyes.
"Well, take your time." Morgana chuckled, stepping past Agatha and moving toward Ricky seemingly looking for someone.
"Ricky, honey, could I have your ear?" Morgana asked, looping her arm through his as Lucky immediately understood.
"I'll go pay my respects to Mrs. Costello." Lucky said, giving them space and stepping to the side.
"Is it really-"
"Yes, it's really important," Morgana whispered, understanding the event but needing to speak with him immediately.
"Alright, c'mere." Ricky said, guiding her to the side of the graveyard so they could talk without interruptions.
Raven, noticing Morgana, smiled slowly before walking over to the crowd gathering near one of Frank's statues.
"I don't wanna talk business-"
"Then swallow your disappointment, because a king can never just take off his crown, just as the head of a family can never take a break." Morgana chuckled, shrugging at the most irritating part that inevitably comes with power.
"Fine, what?" Ricky sighed, giving Morgana his full attention as the queen straightened herself.
"Some of the other races of otherworld are whispering amongst each other-"
"Baby, are you for real?" Ricky genuinely asked, laughing, assuming she was exaggerating the race's strength against him.
"If any of them start a war, I, or you, will just crush them-"
"When are you going to deliver the drugs?" Morgana finished her earlier sentence, smiling at Ricky, who was immediately surprised by how insistent she was about getting her shipment of heroin.
"Seriously?" Ricky asked, raising an eyebrow as Morgana slowly traced her hand across his suit, letting out a soft, amused chuckle.
"Honey, there are more ways of subduing others without violence, since, after all, your governments do the exact same thing."
Essentially, what Morgana wanted to do was flood the other territories of Otherworld with heroin and other drugs.
The reason being the harsh reality of the mythical kingdom: Camelot was crippled.
It was so secret because the kingdom was in literal ruins, its treasury drained, and its once-mythic status now reeling from the fractures left by Merlyn's 'death'.
A war, at this stage, would be borderline suicidal.
Among many issues, the greatest problem was that Camelot lacked the manpower, the ideals, and the morale to wage open battle against rival kingdoms and races.
The sword and shield no longer carried the weight they once did when wielded under the banner of Arthur's name.
But poison, that was a weapon Camelot could still wield.
Heroin, to species who had never been privy to such a drug, needed no armies or siege engines.
A rival territory that might have resisted an invasion would find itself undone from within, its warriors softened, its leaders corrupted, its people turning against each other for another taste.
And unlike swords, drugs made money.
Every vial, every ounce, would not only destabilize Camelot's enemies but fill Morgana's coffers.
This was how Morgana wanted to rule.
Where Arthur once sought to build unity through honor, Morgana sought dominion through dependency.
It was questionable in its entirety, yet ironically, the perfect inversion of Camelot's ideals.
"I just got the batch; it'll be ready in a week-"
"Ricky, I need it~" Morgana purposely said, joking as if feigning a greater desperation while slowly biting her lip.
"You'll get your fix, don't worry," Ricky chuckled, pressing his forehead against hers with his sleazy smile.
"Good~" Morgana purred, a crazy shimmer in her eyes before she quickly suppressed it.
"Also, I'm quite surprised you invited me to this occasion." Morgana chuckled, continuing to trace her hand across his chest.
"When the man known as Junior sent word to me through Cedric, I was a little shocked, but I can never say no to you," Morgana said warmly, smiling at what she assumed was his thoughtfulness.
Ricky didn't respond, only giving her a strange look for one simple reason: he hadn't invited Morgana, thinking she wouldn't care about a man she'd never met.
"Well, you mean so much, and you're going to be part of this family soon, so I wanted you to feel included." Ricky said smoothly, chuckling softly as he placed a small kiss on Morgana's lips.
Morgana chuckled heartily, her cheeks tinged with red as she slowly slipped from his hold.
"I'm going to mingle so don't miss me too much." Morgana laughed, feeling a twinge of embarrassment at her words, but the love she felt made them come out naturally.
Ricky played along, reaching out to keep her from fully slipping from his grasp until she slowly turned away.
Then, if her smile couldn't stretch any wider, she noticed Raven sneaking glances and immediately put on a smug expression before walking over to the Costello family.
"Mrs. Costello?" Morgana asked, choosing to offer her condolences to the mother of a man she had never met, though she knew her kingdom had played a part in his death.
"Yes?" Mrs. Costello replied, the elderly man paying his respects slowly dipping to the side, while Junior lingered nearby with an awkward smile.
"I just wanted to say how grateful I am for what Frank meant to my Ricky." Morgana said, slowly taking the woman's hand and leaving her visibly surprised.
"Are you-"
"I'm Morgana Le Fey, and yes, from the Camelot mythos," Morgana chuckled, enjoying the woman's shock even more, since that wasn't what she had expected to say.
"T-Thank you for coming." Mrs. Costello said, completely shocked since she knew the Camelot mythos well since she had come to know who was behind her son's deaht.
But instead of the hate Morgana had expected, instead of the sharp, accusatory glare that she had braced herself for, Mrs. Costello offered her a sad, almost weary smile.
The weight of understanding softened the woman's expression, catching Morgana completely off guard.
"And-.......I'm sorry what Merlyn did to you." Mrs. Costello said suddenly, her words so gentle that it left Morgana momentarily speechless.
What made the apology so unexpected was the empathy woven into her pause, subtly shifting the energy between them and making the encounter far more human than Morgana had anticipated.
"I do not know much, but I've heard how he trapped you for so long," Mrs. Costello said sadly, rubbing Morgana's hand with a pain she could barely comprehend.
Yet the old woman found a quiet solace in someone else who had also suffered under Merlyn's tragedies.
Sniff
Finally, Mrs. Costello couldn't help herself and pulled the queen into a tight hug, stroking the back of her hair as if she were the one in mourning.
"T-Thank you." Morgana said, awkwardly returning the embrace as the older woman cupped her cheek before giving her a gentle pat.
"No, thank you," Mrs. Costello said warmly, slowly withdrawing her hand from the queen's cheek until she released her entirely.
Morgana's blank expression lingered for a moment before she slowly turned away, moving to the side to regain her queenly composure.
"What a nice woman-"
GASP
"Hey, Junior!" Ricky laughed, slapping him on the back so hard that the air in his lungs whooshed out in a sharp gasp, startling Mrs. Costello.
"Aye, Mrs. Costello, would you mind letting me-"
"Oh God, you'd be doing me a favor since this boy hasn't left my side all day." Mrs. Costello heaved, immediately using the excuse to escape Junior and walking toward the side where more people dressed in black waited to pay their respects.
"B-Boss-"
"You know, Junior, I'm just so glad you invited Morgana on my behalf," Ricky chuckled, slinging his arm around the younger man's shoulder and yanking him to the side.
"I-"
"Cause, weirdly enough, I don't f*cking remember asking you to do that." Ricky said, his laughter fading as a subtle green glow flickered in his eyes, sending Junior pale.
GULP
Junior swallowed hard, the sound reverberating in the air as he slowly started to tremble under Ricky's gaze.
"Raven told you to do it, didn't she?" Ricky whispered into his ear, putting two and two together as he nodded slowly, barely daring to meet his eyes.
Ricky's eyes slowly turned toward Raven in the distance, watching her face tint with guilt as she realized she had been caught red-handed in the scheme she concocted before the warning.
"Was it before or after dinner?" Ricky asked, forcibly turning Junior away so he couldn't glance at Raven.
"Before, boss-"
"You're playing with fire, Junior." Ricky sighed, giving him a light push as Junior stumbled forward, catching himself only on one of Frank's statues.
"And you're just gonna get burned," Ricky chuckled, watching Junior back away as the statue flared to life in a green fire for a split second under his pyrokinesis.
"So listen to me, 'cause I ain't ever gonna repeat myself." Ricky said, watching Junior slowly turn to face not a man mourning his father, but the head of the family.
"Your only allegiance is to this family, to me." Ricky hissed, thumping his chest and watching Junior flinch with every beat.
"If you ever follow another's orders outside this family, outside of me, and I find out-" Ricky said, letting the sentence hang as he walked over to one of the stone birds Chuck had crafted and wrapped it around his hand.
CRUNCH
"Burns will be the least of your problems, understand?" Ricky continued, crushing a nearby stone dove in his bare hands as Junior flinched.
"I-I understand boss, never again boss."
"Good." Ricky muttered, flicking his head as if dismissing him, and Junior immediately bolted toward his grandmother.
Turning around, Ricky's gaze landed on Raven.
She bit her lip, guilt clouding her expression and almost hoping he would lash out at her, only to catch him shaking his head in quiet disappointment.
He didn't need to say a word; he did something far more painful and slowly turned away, leaving her to wrestle with the fact that she had been caught.
"Ricky?"
Then, just as his mood threatened to sour, the soft, gentle words of an old friend reached him, prompting a reluctant smile as he turned his head.
"Cardinal Sebastian." Ricky said, almost relieved to see the familiar face as he walked over.
"It is both a blessing and a curse to reunite in such a way." Cardinal Sebastian replied, embracing Ricky as if to offer his condolences for the loss he had endured.
"I'm just glad that someone like you'd even officiate this funeral-"
"Nonsense." Cardinal Sebastian said, letting the words fall as if they carried no weight.
"You've done so much for the Church; this is the least I could do." Father Sebastion continued, tears forming in his eyes at the magnitude of what Ricky had done for the faith.
Simply put, after everything with the factory and the legitimate funds required to keep it running, Ricky had inadvertently saved the Vatican from bankruptcy.
A vast stream of money had been laundered through the Church, and though he wasn't obliged to, he gave them a cut of every dollar that passed through their hands.
It was, in his mind, a service fee or, how he liked to put it, a gesture of appreciation.
The cardinals, of course, told themselves it was divine providence.
That the Church had always been a vessel through which power moved, and if the Lord allowed this man's wealth to pass through their hands, perhaps it was part of a plan too great to question.
"Y'know, I've been thinking a lot about the Church recently," Ricky said, walking along the beautiful flower-lined path with him.
"Really?" Cardinal Sebastian asked, his tone tinged with excitement, almost proud that Ricky was considering the Church outside of Sundays.
"Yeah, cause I've come into a lot of wealth recently."
After the entire fiasco with Merlyn and securing half of Camelot's wealth, Ricky faced a problem. The issue dated back even before the troubles with Otherworld.
When he had originally tried to give his gold bars to Chores, he had nearly been investigated by the federal government.
On April 5, 1933, FDR signed an executive order requiring everyone to surrender their gold.
Then, in 1934, the Gold Reserve Act was passed, making it illegal for individuals to possess gold.
Ricky, however, didn't care.
He simply gave the gold to the Vatican, where it was converted into money before being transferred to Lucky.
But the problem with managing funds remained.
With the government involved and all this wealth in his hands, Ricky was growing increasingly frustrated at having to give a cut not only to the Vatican but also to the middleman that was the U.S. government.
"Is it because of that vile man Merlyn?" Cardinal Sebastion asked, his face filled with despair as his eyes loomed over to Frank's statue.
"Yeah, after I tore him off his high horse, I got all his stuff." Ricky laughed, remembering their battle fondly as he drove the ebony blade into his heart right in front of Gaea.
"Well, ask away, and I'll do anything I can to help." Cardinal Sebastian said genuinely, patting Ricky's shoulders to show his willingness.
"So, here's the thing-"
Ricky and Cardinal Sebastian talked for a while, until everyone had slowly taken their places and the funeral procession began.
It was only then that Ricky tore himself away from his old friend and assumed his place within the ceremony.
A Catholic funeral doesn't normally begin at the graveyard.
Tradition demanded that it begin at the church, proceed to the altar, and finally conclude at the tombstone.
The only reason people had gathered here first was the sheer magnificence of the transformed graveyard.
Chuck had remade it into a cathedral of its own; statues, arches, flowers, and all of it swelling into something that felt almost holier than stone walls and stained glass.
But the Church would not bend completely.
"Come now, everyone, let us begin in the House of God." Cardinal Sebastian called, reminding them that the true liturgy must start at the house of God.
And so, slowly, they began to tear themselves away from the beauty of the graveyard.
Mourners lingered as long as they could, eyes dragging across the colors, the effigies, and the cascade of petals caught in the wind.
Until finally, with a lot of reluctantance, the crowd began its slow walk toward the church doors.
But the casket led the way, carried by Ricky, Lucky, Junior, and Meyer as they shouldered the burden together.
But each of these four men bore the weight of Frank's lifeless form in his own way.
For Ricky, he felt it in the crook of his shoulder.
He felt the coffin pressing into his shoulder, the discomfort not from its weight, but from the persistent reminder of its presence.
For Lucky, his jaw tightened, his body trembling slightly under the strain since his limping leg made the task difficult, but he endured it for his closest friend.
For Junior, he struggled to hold back the tears.
His eyes reflected nothing but grief and despair, yet he summoned all his strength to wear this resolute expression in honor of his father's memory, who always shoved down his emotions for others.
For Meyer, he carried his corner with quiet loyalty.
Like Frank, he always faded into the background, using that same silence to honor how Frank had worked diligently behind the scenes.
The others fell in behind them, a hundred pairs of shoes crunching against the gravel, the long line of mourners trailing the family like a river of black.
Together, they crossed the threshold of the church doors.
But while the congregation took their seats, the four men carried Frank's casket all the way to the altar, where Cardinal Sebastian waited with a white pall and a cup of holy water.
When it was set down before him, he greeted the troubled soul with holy water, blessing him in a baptism that signaled forgiveness.
Then, he moved deliberately with the white pall, draping it carefully over the casket.
For reference, a white pall is a sort of white cloth placed over a coffin or urn during a Christian funeral service, symbolizing purity, baptism, and the hopeful resurrection of the deceased.
It was the man of God's duty to perform this ritual, and as the four gently stood before the casket, Cardinal Sebastian finished laying the pall over it.
Struggling to keep himself up, Lucky's leg shifted awkwardly, almost causing him to stumble.
But Ricky caught him smoothly, slinging an arm around him to steady him and subtly signal to those behind without embarrassing his father.
"I'm fine-"
"Oh, shut up and let me help you," Ricky scoffed in a whisper, pulling Lucky along while patting his chest.
However, instead of reprimanding or cussing him out, the old man gave a bitter smile as they made their way over to Mrs. Costello.
The woman didn't even glance at the two of them; her watery eyes were fixed entirely on Cardinal Sebastian, who slowly took his place at the altar.
"Please be seated." Cardinal Sebastian said, and they all obeyed, settling quietly into their places.
"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit," Cardinal Sebastian said, tracing his hands in the air as if waiting for a response.
"Amen," the congregation replied softly, their voices carrying the weight of familiarity, as if they had recited the words countless times before.
"The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all." Cardinal Sebastian smiled, gesturing his hands out towards all of them.
"And with your spirit." The congregation responded in unison, their voices blending into the solemn atmosphere of the church.
This was the liturgy, and the congregation's brief responses were intentional.
It was meant to show unity, that the community is praying together, not just listening passively.
Before Cardinal Sebastion finally began the service.
"Brothers and sisters, we gather here not only to mourn a man, but to remember the ways in which he left his mark upon this world." Cardinal Sebastian said, his voice heavy with emotion.
"Frank Costello was not a saint, and we do not pretend otherwise before God." Cardinal Sebsation added, his admission cutting deep since it pained him to speak the truth.
"He lived a life that was questionable, difficult, and sometimes dangerous." Cardinal Sebastian said, his eyes lingering on the altar for a moment before slowly lifting them.
"But it was also a life that carried loyalty, devotion, and a steadfast love for those he called family." Father Sebastian continued, his voice softening as it carried the weight of remembrance that made many of those before him start to tear up.
"The Lord teaches us that mercy triumphs over judgment, and that no soul is beyond His reach. We trust in that promise today," Cardinal Sebastian said, smiling and gesturing toward the congregation, many of whom wanted to clap but held back out of respect.
"For even in Frank's final moments, his heart was not turned inward, but outward," Cardinal Sebastian continued, his words making Lucky duck his head while Ricky patted his back in quiet support.
"Protecting, sacrificing, and giving what he had so that others might live." Cardinal Sebastian said, his eyes scanning the crowd as Alina began to cry hysterically, her children moving to comfort her.
"Greater love has no man than this, that he lays down his life for his friends, for his family."
If anyone had not been paying attention before, after that single sentence all eyes turned to Cardinal Sebastian, drawn by the weight and respect of his words.
"We will remember Frank not only for the battles he fought in the streets, but for the quieter ones, the unseen ones, where he gave his strength to those who could not stand on their own." Cardinal Sebastian said, gesturing and patting his heart as if to mark how powerful Frank's final moments were in his eyes.
"So let us commit his soul to God's keeping, and let us not dwell on the man he was in shadow, but the man he strove to be in light."
"May the mercy of Christ, which holds room for even the most restless spirit, now hold him."
"Ahem." Mrs. Costello sniffed, tears streaming down her face as Junior gently consoled her, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder.
"I will now read some prayers from the old testament."
The priest continued with the prayers, leading the congregation in the Prayers of the Faithful, asking God to receive Frank's soul, comfort his family, and grant eternal rest to all the faithful departed.
The congregation responded in unison, their voices rising and falling like a tide, carrying their grief and hope together as they only responded when asked by the cardinal before them.
Then, the Lord's Prayer followed, and the priest gave the blessing of final commendation, sprinkling holy water over the coffin one last time.
All the formalities of the Mass completed, the Cardinal stepped aside, signaling that the family could now take Frank home for the last time.
Ricky, Lucky, Junior, and Meyer lifted the casket once more, their hands steady, but now, their hearts were heavy.
They traced the path down the aisle of the church, passing every row as the congregation rose like dominos.
The mourners followed silently, carrying Frank's casket back toward the graveyard, where the final act of farewell would take place.
Although it seemed impractical to take the coffin to the church and then back to the graveyard, this was how the Luciano family wanted to honor him.
But that wasn't what it was about.
It was not about convenience, but about how deeply these mobsters, these seemingly cruel men, carried the will of God in their hearts.
It was about the ceremony, the respect, and ensuring that Frank's final journey was as meaningful as the life he had lived.
This was how a mobster was honored and remembered; this was how the Lucianos honored their own.
The sun had risen higher in the sky as Cardinal Sebastian's prayers continued, long and strenuous, yet not a single person complained.
Even Ricky, who normally hated lengthy sermons, made an exception today, as clouds slowly began to roll in overhead.
However, once they reached the memorial tombstone that would house Frank's coffin, the four of them stopped.
All four sets of eyes stared blankly at the freshly dug trench as they waited for everyone to bear witness to the final act.
The mourners slowly gathered around, and even the children, normally so loud and restless, fell silent at the sight of Ricky's sorrowful expression.
"Mommy-" Danielle said worriedly, tugging at Raven's black dress, tears welling in her eyes as she pointed toward Ricky.
"He's okay, sweetie." Raven whispered, already understanding Danielle's confusion as the little girl slowly nodded before turning her gaze back to her father.
The other children didn't fully understand, and even if they did, it was still surreal to see their father, someone who always seemed larger than life, so grounded in this moment.
Still, the four of them waited, until Cardinal Sebastian finally made his way to the grave, forming a cross in the air with his hands.
"We commit Frank Costello to Almighty God, in the hope of resurrection and eternal life." Cardinal Sebasiton finally said, and with it, the four of them finally started to lower him to his resting place.
They all struggled with this part, the final act of letting go, but none of the four hesitated.
Finally, the coffin came to rest in the grave.
"Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him so that he may rest in peace."
"Ahem." They all said in unison, holding back their tears as Cardinal Sebastian gazed solemnly toward the group of Frank's closest people.
"Now, would anyone like to say a few words?" Cardinal Sebastian asked, his gaze sweeping over the tide of mourners until it landed on a single raised hand.
"I'd like to say something." Ricky said, surprising everyone since most had assumed he would speak last.
All eyes followed Ricky as he slowly walked to the head of Frank's tombstone, settling his gaze down toward the grave.
"For the past week, I've been dreading what to say," Ricky chuckled, wiping his lips as if to erase the sad smile that refused to fade.
"I mean, what can you say to the man who always had your back without ever asking?" Ricky continued, casting his gaze over the crowd and earning a few chuckles in response.
"And although it's my first time speaking at a funeral, I wanted it to be special." Ricky said, his words laced with emotion as he swallowed the speech he had prepared.
"Y'know, I thought about going on about symbolism and all that, only to realize, that's not what Frank would have wanted." Ricky said, glancing down at the grave as a faint smile tugged at his lips.
"All he ever wanted was for me to succeed, our family to succeed." Ricky revealed, his eyes sweeping over the crowd, and settling briefly on Mrs. Costello before returning to the tomb.
"I loved Frank as a godfather, as a right hand, and as a friend," Ricky said, his emotions growing more evident with each word.
"And I'd like to think that loving something means accepting the inevitability that it's going to break your heart." Ricky added, his voice catching slightly before he forced himself to continue.
"That no matter how much you love something, you could still lose it." Ricky said, his words carrying this weight that seemingly silenced even the shifting feet in the crowd.
"Yet we do it anyway, 'cause it's just the best thing." Ricky went on, a wry smile cutting through the grief for only a moment.
"To me, at least, I think it makes it even more beautiful." Ricky admitted, looking out across the mourners as if daring them to disagree.
"To know that something you love will break your heart, but know it'll be worth it," Ricky continued, chuckling at how much Frank had impacted his life, but unable to bring himself to change a thing.
"It'll be worth it, 'cause we got to do this." Ricky said, pausing to let the words settle.
"We got to have someone like Frank in our lives and be forever grateful for how he changed everyone of us."
Sniff
"Man, I still remember when I was younger and I scammed him out of all his money when we first met." Ricky laughed, the sound breaking as he wiped his nose while getting more emotional.
"All of the guys were pissed at me, but it was Frank who made sure they paid me what I was owed." Ricky laughed a little harder though the sound, the feeling bubbling in his chest crushing his heart into paste.
Still, he pushed through it.
"And I'm gonna miss that the most."
"I'm just gonna miss him, so f*cking much." Ricky muttered, his eyes fixed on the coffin and holding it there for a long moment.
"That's all I have to say." Ricky said, his eyes drifting over the others before settling on Mrs. Costello, who clutched her heart with quiet gratitude at his words.
Ricky stepped aside, and Lucky pulled him into a firm embrace, patting his back before letting him go.
Ricky sat down afterward, blank and unmoving, his mind distant as the others began their speeches.
One by one, they each stepped forward to pay their final respects to Frank, offering stories or speaking from the heart.
But together, they made sure that even the heavens knew how much he was loved.
And then, slowly, the mourners began to take up scoops of earth, letting the dirt fall onto the burial.
Petals drifted onto the coffin as it sank into the earth, mingling with the soil as if to soak his burial in the love of the many colorful lives he had touched.
Ricky watched as the last inch of that wood disappeared beneath the soil, feeling the finality of it, the emptiness left behind, and yet the strange comfort that came from honoring him properly.
When the grave was filled, the mourners lingered for a moment in silence, each lost in thought, before slowly stepping back.
Ricky, Lucky, Junior, and Meyer remained for a heartbeat longer.
Then, as the clouds slowly parted for the sun and the wind carried away the last petals, the ceremony drew to a close.
The Luciano family had said their farewells, and Frank Costello was finally at rest.
"Sorry, daddy." Danielle whispered, slipping to Ricky's side and wrapping her small arms around him.
Before Ricky could even blink out of his daze, the rest of his children crowded in, hugging him from every direction until he was nearly smothered.
"Don't be sad, it's weird~" Zatana whined, her sniffles breaking through as she frowned at the absence of the smirk she had grown so used to.
"I'll be quiet, please smile." Sarah whispered, her words trembling as she struggled to keep her voice down.
"Yeah." Carmine said, his voice flat but earnest, while some of the other boys just nodded along, unable to really find the words and just agreed with their brother.
"H-Here." Moxie muttered reluctantly, pressing a single nickel into Ricky's hand as he chuckled softly at their clumsy attempts to soothe him.
Sigh
"C'mere, you little rugrats." Ricky laughed, bending down to wrap them all in his arms.
"Not gonna lie, I feel better now." Ricky added with a soft chuckle, thanking them quietly as they nodded at his smile before he finally stood back up.
"So, who's ready for a party?" Ricky asked, his smile slowly widening as he caught the sparkle in their eyes.
"Me, me-"
"MEEEEEE!" Sarah's roar drowned out the others as she bounced up and down with wild energy.
"Then go to your mothers and get changed." Ricky laughed, patting at their formal clothes so they could run off into something more comfortable.
Almost immediately, they all bolted over to their mother, tugging excitedly at their dresses to get ready.
"Aye, boss." Lil Tony called, walking over with the rest of Ricky's inner circle, while Lucky let out a quiet chuckle.
"Where you going?" Ricky asked, watching Lucky follow after the children and the mothers heading toward the car.
"To enjoy my hard earned retirement." Lucky scoffed, giving the others a respectful nod before turning to follow his grandchildren back to the funeral.
"What is it-"
"The Olympic Committee is deciding whether to add mutants to the games. They're gonna announce it later today," Lil Tony said right away, stressing the point as his eyes flicked to the most powerful mutant America had ever given birth to.
"What?" Ricky asked, though even as the word left his mouth, his thoughts drifted back to the president's conversation in the White House just days ago.
"The Germans, they're trying to slight the other countries at the last minute." Shades chuckled, shaking his head at those sly bastards.
"Ha!" Ricky laughed, almost taken aback at all the pieces he needed slowly aligning in place.
It all made sense now as Ricky's mind turned to why his name even had come up with the president.
"Slick, this could be our way in, your way in." Johnny said, the others slowly realizing that this ticket into those games might come from actually joining the Olympics as a participant.
"We should-"
"Aye, let's worry about that tomorrow," Ricky said suddenly, turning back to Frank's grave and laying a hand on the tombstone.
"The funeral might've been to mourn his death, but my block party is to celebrate his life." Ricky laughed, waving their worries aside for later.
"But Slick-"
"Tomorrow we strike, but today, let's give our guys a break," Ricky said, his resolve burning in his eyes, shutting down their complaints one by one.
"They'll be working nonstop, after all."
The second he spoke those words, they all remembered the parts of his veil method and slowly nodded.
One by one, they drifted off to join the block party, but Ricky remained, tracing his hand over the polished stone with a gentle smile.
Until he felt something scurry up his body.
"Your words were noble." Alexander chuckled, perching lightly on Ricky's shoulder as he stared down at the grave.
"I don't know, I think I cussed too much-" Ricky sighed lightly, shaking his head since he honestly couldn't help himself sometimes.
"Nonsense," Alexander interrupted with a laugh, tapping Ricky's cheek lightly with his paw as if to silence him.
"There are no right words, only the right meaning."
"And your meaning was beautiful," Alexander added with a soft chuckle, settling more comfortably on Ricky's shoulder.
"I know I never tell you this, since it's beneath a mentor to appreciate his disciples' efforts until it's in their dying breath." Alexander chuckled, thinking his next words were meaningless but he knew they were the right ones to say.
"But you've come a long way." Alexander continued, eyes glinting with quiet pride as he studied Ricky.
"But you must push further." Alexander added, the intensity in his tone hinting at the challenge still ahead, trying to keep Ricky on track.
"This feeling within your stomach, the guilt you feel, it must be channeled," Alexander murmured, paw brushing lightly against Ricky's arm as if to guide his focus.
"You know it, I know it, and that's why you've grown stronger," he concluded, a subtle warmth threading through his words, making Ricky feel the weight of both expectation and trust.
"Power comes from pain." Alexander revealed, gripping his paw lightly over his heart, and letting them sink into Ricky's chest.
"It always has and it always will." Alexander continued, eyes narrowing slightly as if warning Ricky to channel the grief within him into something stronger, something worthy of a conqueror's disciple.
"This pain you feel, it's only proof of how powerful you have become." Alexander said, letting the words hang in the quiet air, giving Ricky a moment to feel their meaning.
"The weak feel no pain; they live in comfort and die with it." Alexander said, his gaze almost trying to measure Ricky's understanding.
"But they'll never be remembered, not like Frank." Alexander finished, a quiet reverence in his tone, honoring the man who had died in service.
"However, power is what you make of it-"
"Do you think they're ready?" Ricky asked, interrupting Alexander who curiously raised his furry brow.
"For?"
"For me, do you think that after all of this, they're ready for me?" Ricky asked, his eyes tracking Alexander's measured movements.
"No. Enemies underestimate what they cannot grasp, and your power is boundless. It is like a voidless darkness." Alexander paused, contemplative, then slowly shook his head.
"Unless you sink into its hold, the naked eye can never reach its bottom." Alexander said, his words evoking something both beautiful and terrible.
"Y'know, I've thought a lot about that exact thing." Ricky chuckled, letting his hand drift from the stone as he gazed up at the sun hanging high in the sky.
"I mean, after everything I've done, after everything I've gained, they still refuse to see it coming." Ricky laughed, almost at the absurdity of his own words.
"They'll think that I just want gold, that I'm just gonna cast my veil across those games." Ricky said, raising his gaze until the sun reflected in his green eyes, matching the fiery ambition burning within him.
"But I'm gonna cast my veil across the f*cking world."
Author's Note: Ngl, kinda liked writing about the funeral and stuff cause I've never really been to a real one before so it was cool to learn about it before writing. Anyways, I'll put more smut soon.