Abbacchio's Daughter Scenarios

A Little Reunion Pt.2

Still fifteen cause I don't want my baby to grow up, also buckle up buttercup, it's a long one!

Diavolo had been assigned his own personal quarters and he had settled in quite nicely. Everyone had been told the news of their new recruit except for one. Trish Una. Everyone was under strict orders by Giorno to keep the news from her. He had intended to break the news at an appropriate time with appropriate words. Though, it didn't take long for Trish to recognize the hidden conflict that was festering within every single mafioso. 

Bucciarati was sitting down with a bowl of warm soup in his hands. Abbacchio was right next to him, an arm laid gently across his husband's shoulder. Golden Experience was unable to reduce pain, thus, the agony lurking and flaring within Bucciarati's chest was almost unbearable. He kept a straight face and held the occasional reassuring smile that he would be fine, but a repaired wound like that would torture him for days on end and that he knew.

You kissed Mama Bruno on the cheek and slid on your shoes, getting ready to make a visit. You could feel the skeptical stare of your father. 

"Where are you going?" He mumbled with a tired sigh. The night had been long taking care of Bruno.

"To see him." You continued your way out of the room and closed the door behind you before Abbacchio could share his disapproval. Glares watched your footsteps walk towards Diavolo's door. You had faced cold rejection since you stood up for him. Even Mista found it hard to talk to you. If they only understood what he had become when you had found him. Near insanity caused by fear.

You twisted the cold door knob and quietly entered risky territory. Half expecting a mess, you were surprised for how neat the new recruit had kept the fancy room. You heard a sniffle.

"Diavolo?" Small steps were taken into the main room. Quick shuffling followed the call and you found him on the couch, reading a book. His watermelon hair was blocking his face and he stayed silent most likely for reason. 

"You doing okay?" You approached the silent specimen and reached your hand out to his shoulder. He knocked it away and turned his head further to the side. 

"Come on, let me see your face. It's be a waste of good looks if you didn't." You sweetly spoke as if you were offering honey and comfort. He slowly turned his face towards you, and the problem was discovered. Clearly a severe mental breakdown had taken place while you were away. There were bloodied cuts along his face and his eyes were strained with red. His purple lipstick had been smeared and his voice was choked up. That's when you noticed a broken vase and shards of glass on the floor. He had cut himself relentlessly out of insanity.

"W-What-okay uhm, hold on!" You rushed to this bathroom knowing all medical things were kept there. Soon enough, you were rubbing hydrogen peroxide on Diavolo's deep cuts and bandaging them. 

It was so...bland. Depressing even. Giorno had told you stories of this very man slaying anyone one who got in his way. He was a god among mankind, but now he was silent. Sitting silently with his hands clasped and his mind damaged. 

"What triggered it this time?" You sat there patiently, waiting for him to say something. Anything. Maybe screaming had caused him to lose his voice? 

Diavolo slid a picture out from his pants pocket with a shaky hand. A young man with pink hair that had a big curl in the front was standing in front of the bright foamy ocean on a warm beach. He was wearing the same pants as Diavolo and a cute light purple sweater. His smile was like a beam of sunshine, beautiful.

"...I remember when he had this picture taken..." his voice shook as much as his hands did. "Doppio...that was his name. I miss his voice..."

"Who's...Doppio?"