Abbacchio's Daughter Scenarios

Abbacchio Breaks the News

Damn...I'm starving. You thought. Picking yourself off of the couch, you made your way to the kitchen. Maybe a sandwich? Nah, dino nuggies for sure. You didn't smell the intriguing smell of pasta for dinner so it was probably okay to grab whatever.

"Awwww, I remember when she was that little," you heard a familiar voice say from Giorno's quarters. You knocked on the door with curiosity filling your head. You found the gang (excluding Abbacchio, Bucciarati, and your dog) looking through an album while crowded around Gio who was in the middle. Giorno was smiling as he flipped to the next page of the book.

"Oh! Hey (Y/n)!" Trish greeted you and signaled for you to come closer. You were awfully suspicious of the book, but Giorno made Mista move over to make room for you. Pictures decorated the pages. Pictures of a baby. A sweet, beautiful, little, baby girl.

"We're looking through old baby pictures," Giorno kept gazing down from the book back up to you. "Goodness, stop growing, would you?" You laughed as he patted your head. 

"Oh!" Mista pointed to a picture. "Little me!" Mista had taken a selfie with you who was dressed up in a little Mista costume. You looked pretty great. 

"I remember that stupid thing." Trish sighed as did almost everyone else.

"Hey! Do NOT insult that outfit. It was a beautiful." Mista was still overprotective of it. 

"Hey, what's that?" You pointed to a picture. It was a picture of Bucciarati sleeping five feet away from Abbacchio. A crib was sitting in the other side of your room, or at least what it used to look like. Next to that photo was Mista and Narancia moving Bucciarati next to Abbacchio with devious grins plastered on their faces. The final picture of the trilogy was of the two troublemakers crying of adorable-overdose after Bruno had rested his head on Abbacchio's shoulder and Abbacchio had rested his head in Bruno's.

"Was that when I was a baby?" You smiled. Those two were meant to be for quite a while. 

"Yeah. That was right after Abbacchio adopted-," Mista covered his mouth. Everyone gave a death glare at him.

"Wh-what? Adopted?...What do you mean by that?" Everyone kept quiet.

"What do you mean by adopted.?" Your voice was becoming more and more stern.

"I'm not...adopted...am I?" You ran out of the room, confused. Scared for some reason.

"Dad." You shut the door, swallowing the knot in your throat that would have made you cry. 

"Yeah?" He was sipping a small glass of wine, while talking to Bruno. 

"I-. I'm not adopted...right?" Bruno looked over at you.

"Who told you that?" 

"I was looking through baby pictures of me and we stumbled across the one where you and dad were sleeping in room. Mista said it was right after you adopted me." Your (e/c) eyes were slowly filling and gleaming with pain. Abbacchio had a grave feel to him as he looked over at Mama Bruno. He nodded.

"Sit." You already had your answer. If you weren't adopted he would have given you a straight out "no", but he didn't. You were lost.

Abbacchio put a hand up to his forehead. Bucciarati patted his back in an attempt to make it a little easier. He knew that this day would come.

"Yeah...I adopted you."

You couldn't help it anymore. The knot in your throat rose back up and snapped. Your voice grew unstable and a couple of tears streamed down your face. Your head shook no but it was true.