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rainbowfic2012-03-09 07:56 pm
geena) wrote in rainbowfic2012-03-09 07:56 pm
Olive Drab and Alice Blue
Author: Kelly and Geena
Color: Olive Drab 6. “A glass stomach?!” [Kelly]; Alice Blue 24. I don't know the meaning of half those long words, and I don't believe you do either [Geena]
Styles and Supplies: Interactive Art, stain (It's all right letting yourself go as long as you can let yourself back), modeling clay (Sleep)
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,686
Story: Polyfaceted (Index ~ Timeline); the title of this piece is Blank.
Summary: Gino and his siblings receive some life-altering news.
Notes: This occurs on June 23rd of 2019.
***
Gino's deeply engrossed in his hot wings and the conversation flirting around him when, halfway through the sixth inning, Vito weaves his way through the bar crowd and taps him on the shoulder.
"Yeah?" He's been discussing the various pros and cons of this season's Yankees team with the stranger to his left and takes a moment to toss the guy an apologetic look. "What's up?"
Vito's brows are knitted together in a way Gino doesn't like. "We've got to go."
"Now? I'm not finished eating and the game—"
"Ma called. Something's up and they want us home. Now."
Gino's heart skips a beat as he drops a bone into the basket and swallows. "Yeah, okay. Let's go." Gesturing toward the bartender, he tosses a wad of cash that he doesn't count beside his half-full glass. "Is she okay?"
There's a moment of hesitation before Vito firmly shakes his head. "She sounded scared or something. I don't like it."
Neither does he. "You drive."
Vito takes the route even faster than usual, which is saying something. Torey might have taught him to drive, but in practice, he drives more like Nicoletta. Gino doesn't bother being terrified by it; he's too busy thinking about what could have actually scared Violetta to care how fast Vito's whipping down the road.
As soon as Vito parks, they're both out, making for the building and dashing up the stairs. They only stop for old Mrs. Parkinson, from the second floor; if they break her hip, then they're dead.
Gino's apartment is a floor lower than Vito's, so they try there first. Ma and Violetta are talking in soft murmurs and holding onto each other in the dining room, and it takes Vito a second to venture, "Ma?"
They turn to look at them in unison, though Gino gets the feeling that it takes a few seconds for their mothers to actually see them.
"Vito?" Violetta croaks out, and it's then that Gino realizes how puffy and bloodshot their eyes are. Suddenly, he's very cold.
Vito crosses the room in a hurry, resting a hand on Violetta's shoulder. Belatedly, Gino does the same. "Yeah, Ma. We came back as soon as we could."
"What's going on?" Gino manages, mouth dry.
"Your sisters are in the living room." Elisa stands, pulling Violetta after her as they support one another. "Come on, we—we need to talk to you."
Gino hovers close by his mother; he doesn't remember ever seeing her look like this, not ever. He's half afraid she's going to collapse or something.
"What's going on?" Cristina asks quietly once their mothers have sat down. She's not demanding, and that scares Gino even worse. That's not his sister. "What's wrong?" She's sharing the loveseat with Betta, her fingers absently trailing along their baby sister's hair.
"Boys, sit down," Elisa directs. Gino doesn't even exchange a glance with Vito before he takes the leftmost cushion of the couch; he guesses his brother has taken the rightmost, but he doesn't look. He's mostly tangled up in that cold feeling and the fear and worry of what's going on. "We got…a call, right before Violetta called you, Vito."
"Ma?" Vito asks.
"Sweethearts," Violetta says, "I don't know how to tell you this, but it's your father. He's died."
There's a twisted, broken cry of a sound that Gino can't immediately identify as Elisabetta. Once he does, he's certain all the blood has drained from his body, that his organs have been ripped right out of him.
"What?" Vito whispers. "No, that—"
Cristina shakes briefly, the movement catching in Gino's peripheral vision, before she gathers herself and tenses. "How? What happened?"
"No," Gino interrupts without being aware of it. He shakes his head. "No, no, no. That's not true."
Elisa's expression crumples. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."
"It was a heart attack," Violetta supplies after a beat. "There was nothing anyone could do."
"But…" Cristina falters.
"Torey was the one who called us," Elisa says softly. "He said he'll call again when he knows more." Distantly, Gino realizes her left hand is rubbing circles on his upper back.
"Did you call Mina?" Vito demands abruptly.
"I was going to after we told you," Violetta tells him.
That reminds Gino of another older sister, and he starts to shake as though he's outside in the middle of winter.
"Oh, darling," Elisa breathes. She leans down, pulling Gino toward her. "Come here, it—"
Gino clears his throat, looking away. "Has everyone else been told? Have you talked to Nic?"
Cristina sharply inhales. "Oh god, Nic."
Watching his brother with growing concern, Vito breaks in, "I'm sure she's not alone. Hey, are you okay?"
A bark of laughter comes from the direction of the loveseat. When they all turn to look in surprise, Elisabetta shortly points out, "How could he be okay? Nothing's okay."
"Betta, he didn't mean it like that," Cris points out. She leans in closer to Elisabetta.
"We haven't spoken to anyone else yet," Elisa tells him. "I think Torey and Johnny are taking care of that. Mrs. Corlioni—" She clears her throat. "Mrs. Corlioni was the one to find him."
Gino feels like he's been punched in the stomach. His father was alone when—
"Excuse me," he mutters, scrambling to his feet and rushing for the bathroom.
He doesn't make it to the toilet, leaning over the counter instead as he vomits every last one of those damn hot wings into the sink. Choking and sputtering, gasping for breath, Gino's dimly aware of the tears stinging his eyes and streaking down his cheeks as he empties his stomach completely.
"You done?" Vito asks after a few minutes. Gino wasn't even aware he was there.
"Yeah. I think so."
"I didn't mean it like that, when I asked if you were okay."
"I know." Gino turns on the tap, cupping his hands together to drink. Once his tongue feels a little less grimy, he tears off a wad of toilet paper from the roll and wipes his nose.
Vito drapes an arm around his shoulders as they leave the bathroom.
While they were gone, Elisabetta and Cristina joined their mothers, sitting on the floor instead of separating. Elisa is absently braiding Cristina’s hair, and Violetta’s on the phone. Gino stops at the end of the hall, even though he tries to keep going and join the others.
"Hey, you were sick," Vito says after a moment of that. "You want to lay down? I'll come hang out with you."
"I shouldn't," Gino mutters.
"No, come on, they'll get it."
With that little encouragement, Gino turns.
With a little more support than he's willing to admit to, Vito guides Gino down the hall and into his room. They make it to the bed before Gino's knees give out and he pretends that he meant to collapse like that. He takes just enough time to kick off his shoes and, with a growing sense of self-loathing for abandoning the others in the back of his mind, rolls over.
"Sorry," he mutters.
Vito shrugs this off. "Mind if I stay here with you?"
Gino makes a noncommittal sound.
After a few silent minutes, Vito quietly asks, "What's going to happen now? I mean, what do we do?"
It takes Gino a long moment to respond. "Torey's probably going to handle everything." He takes a deep, shuddering breath. "So probably check in with him. Definitely take care of our mas." And he'll do that. He will. As soon as he can get back up, he'll take care of his mother.
He just doesn't know how long that's going to take this time.
Vito seems unsure, wavering as he rests a hand on the bed beside Gino. "Do you think we should call Nic?"
Gino closes his eyes as tightly as he can, slowly drawing in a deep breath. Eventually, he turns to his brother. "I don't think she'd be able to talk on the phone, do you?" The glance they exchange is all the agreement he needs. "Hey, Vito?"
"Yeah?"
"Do—do you think it hurt? Do you think he was—" Gino chokes up, tears slipping past his stern defenses. He can't help it.
Vito looks away, blinking rapidly. When he speaks, his own voice is unsteady, his eyes oddly red. "I don't know."
"Mrs. Corlioni—she found him," Gino mutters. "She has to be—that had to be horrible." He can't stop playing it in his mind, what must have happened when she did, how she must feel. He sucks in a deep breath. "Teresa, Vito."
Vito mutters a curse. "She has David, I guess, but—you think she'll get it?"
Gino shrugs slightly. "I don't know."
With a pinched look in his eyes, Vito sighs heavily. "This really sucks. More than really." His breathing rhythm skips a bit. "Not fair."
Rounding his shoulders, Gino shrugs.
After a beat or two, Vito leans in. "I should go check on everyone else. That okay? Just a few minutes."
"Yeah," he mutters. "Go ahead." He could use some privacy.
Once his brother is gone, Gino curls on his side, staring unseeing at the wall. His hands clench around each other, tight enough that it would hurt if he could notice it. He can't stop thinking about it, any of it—Mrs. Corlioni finding him, Torey having to do everything and not really having time to himself, all his siblings' reactions, and their mothers…
He's hardly aware that his breathing has changed, turning ragged, or that his cheeks are wet.
He spends the next ten or so minutes—he's really not aware of the passage of time—with his face buried into his pillow, crying so hard that his shoulders tremble.
Gino's father is dead. He's dead, gone forever and never coming back. Gino will never again be able to talk to Augusto or laugh with him. He'll never have another chance to tell him how much he loves him. That's it, that's the end.
He cries until he's numb, and then he burrows under the blankets and goes blank.
***
Color: Olive Drab 6. “A glass stomach?!” [Kelly]; Alice Blue 24. I don't know the meaning of half those long words, and I don't believe you do either [Geena]
Styles and Supplies: Interactive Art, stain (It's all right letting yourself go as long as you can let yourself back), modeling clay (Sleep)
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,686
Story: Polyfaceted (Index ~ Timeline); the title of this piece is Blank.
Summary: Gino and his siblings receive some life-altering news.
Notes: This occurs on June 23rd of 2019.
***
Gino's deeply engrossed in his hot wings and the conversation flirting around him when, halfway through the sixth inning, Vito weaves his way through the bar crowd and taps him on the shoulder.
"Yeah?" He's been discussing the various pros and cons of this season's Yankees team with the stranger to his left and takes a moment to toss the guy an apologetic look. "What's up?"
Vito's brows are knitted together in a way Gino doesn't like. "We've got to go."
"Now? I'm not finished eating and the game—"
"Ma called. Something's up and they want us home. Now."
Gino's heart skips a beat as he drops a bone into the basket and swallows. "Yeah, okay. Let's go." Gesturing toward the bartender, he tosses a wad of cash that he doesn't count beside his half-full glass. "Is she okay?"
There's a moment of hesitation before Vito firmly shakes his head. "She sounded scared or something. I don't like it."
Neither does he. "You drive."
Vito takes the route even faster than usual, which is saying something. Torey might have taught him to drive, but in practice, he drives more like Nicoletta. Gino doesn't bother being terrified by it; he's too busy thinking about what could have actually scared Violetta to care how fast Vito's whipping down the road.
As soon as Vito parks, they're both out, making for the building and dashing up the stairs. They only stop for old Mrs. Parkinson, from the second floor; if they break her hip, then they're dead.
Gino's apartment is a floor lower than Vito's, so they try there first. Ma and Violetta are talking in soft murmurs and holding onto each other in the dining room, and it takes Vito a second to venture, "Ma?"
They turn to look at them in unison, though Gino gets the feeling that it takes a few seconds for their mothers to actually see them.
"Vito?" Violetta croaks out, and it's then that Gino realizes how puffy and bloodshot their eyes are. Suddenly, he's very cold.
Vito crosses the room in a hurry, resting a hand on Violetta's shoulder. Belatedly, Gino does the same. "Yeah, Ma. We came back as soon as we could."
"What's going on?" Gino manages, mouth dry.
"Your sisters are in the living room." Elisa stands, pulling Violetta after her as they support one another. "Come on, we—we need to talk to you."
Gino hovers close by his mother; he doesn't remember ever seeing her look like this, not ever. He's half afraid she's going to collapse or something.
"What's going on?" Cristina asks quietly once their mothers have sat down. She's not demanding, and that scares Gino even worse. That's not his sister. "What's wrong?" She's sharing the loveseat with Betta, her fingers absently trailing along their baby sister's hair.
"Boys, sit down," Elisa directs. Gino doesn't even exchange a glance with Vito before he takes the leftmost cushion of the couch; he guesses his brother has taken the rightmost, but he doesn't look. He's mostly tangled up in that cold feeling and the fear and worry of what's going on. "We got…a call, right before Violetta called you, Vito."
"Ma?" Vito asks.
"Sweethearts," Violetta says, "I don't know how to tell you this, but it's your father. He's died."
There's a twisted, broken cry of a sound that Gino can't immediately identify as Elisabetta. Once he does, he's certain all the blood has drained from his body, that his organs have been ripped right out of him.
"What?" Vito whispers. "No, that—"
Cristina shakes briefly, the movement catching in Gino's peripheral vision, before she gathers herself and tenses. "How? What happened?"
"No," Gino interrupts without being aware of it. He shakes his head. "No, no, no. That's not true."
Elisa's expression crumples. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."
"It was a heart attack," Violetta supplies after a beat. "There was nothing anyone could do."
"But…" Cristina falters.
"Torey was the one who called us," Elisa says softly. "He said he'll call again when he knows more." Distantly, Gino realizes her left hand is rubbing circles on his upper back.
"Did you call Mina?" Vito demands abruptly.
"I was going to after we told you," Violetta tells him.
That reminds Gino of another older sister, and he starts to shake as though he's outside in the middle of winter.
"Oh, darling," Elisa breathes. She leans down, pulling Gino toward her. "Come here, it—"
Gino clears his throat, looking away. "Has everyone else been told? Have you talked to Nic?"
Cristina sharply inhales. "Oh god, Nic."
Watching his brother with growing concern, Vito breaks in, "I'm sure she's not alone. Hey, are you okay?"
A bark of laughter comes from the direction of the loveseat. When they all turn to look in surprise, Elisabetta shortly points out, "How could he be okay? Nothing's okay."
"Betta, he didn't mean it like that," Cris points out. She leans in closer to Elisabetta.
"We haven't spoken to anyone else yet," Elisa tells him. "I think Torey and Johnny are taking care of that. Mrs. Corlioni—" She clears her throat. "Mrs. Corlioni was the one to find him."
Gino feels like he's been punched in the stomach. His father was alone when—
"Excuse me," he mutters, scrambling to his feet and rushing for the bathroom.
He doesn't make it to the toilet, leaning over the counter instead as he vomits every last one of those damn hot wings into the sink. Choking and sputtering, gasping for breath, Gino's dimly aware of the tears stinging his eyes and streaking down his cheeks as he empties his stomach completely.
"You done?" Vito asks after a few minutes. Gino wasn't even aware he was there.
"Yeah. I think so."
"I didn't mean it like that, when I asked if you were okay."
"I know." Gino turns on the tap, cupping his hands together to drink. Once his tongue feels a little less grimy, he tears off a wad of toilet paper from the roll and wipes his nose.
Vito drapes an arm around his shoulders as they leave the bathroom.
While they were gone, Elisabetta and Cristina joined their mothers, sitting on the floor instead of separating. Elisa is absently braiding Cristina’s hair, and Violetta’s on the phone. Gino stops at the end of the hall, even though he tries to keep going and join the others.
"Hey, you were sick," Vito says after a moment of that. "You want to lay down? I'll come hang out with you."
"I shouldn't," Gino mutters.
"No, come on, they'll get it."
With that little encouragement, Gino turns.
With a little more support than he's willing to admit to, Vito guides Gino down the hall and into his room. They make it to the bed before Gino's knees give out and he pretends that he meant to collapse like that. He takes just enough time to kick off his shoes and, with a growing sense of self-loathing for abandoning the others in the back of his mind, rolls over.
"Sorry," he mutters.
Vito shrugs this off. "Mind if I stay here with you?"
Gino makes a noncommittal sound.
After a few silent minutes, Vito quietly asks, "What's going to happen now? I mean, what do we do?"
It takes Gino a long moment to respond. "Torey's probably going to handle everything." He takes a deep, shuddering breath. "So probably check in with him. Definitely take care of our mas." And he'll do that. He will. As soon as he can get back up, he'll take care of his mother.
He just doesn't know how long that's going to take this time.
Vito seems unsure, wavering as he rests a hand on the bed beside Gino. "Do you think we should call Nic?"
Gino closes his eyes as tightly as he can, slowly drawing in a deep breath. Eventually, he turns to his brother. "I don't think she'd be able to talk on the phone, do you?" The glance they exchange is all the agreement he needs. "Hey, Vito?"
"Yeah?"
"Do—do you think it hurt? Do you think he was—" Gino chokes up, tears slipping past his stern defenses. He can't help it.
Vito looks away, blinking rapidly. When he speaks, his own voice is unsteady, his eyes oddly red. "I don't know."
"Mrs. Corlioni—she found him," Gino mutters. "She has to be—that had to be horrible." He can't stop playing it in his mind, what must have happened when she did, how she must feel. He sucks in a deep breath. "Teresa, Vito."
Vito mutters a curse. "She has David, I guess, but—you think she'll get it?"
Gino shrugs slightly. "I don't know."
With a pinched look in his eyes, Vito sighs heavily. "This really sucks. More than really." His breathing rhythm skips a bit. "Not fair."
Rounding his shoulders, Gino shrugs.
After a beat or two, Vito leans in. "I should go check on everyone else. That okay? Just a few minutes."
"Yeah," he mutters. "Go ahead." He could use some privacy.
Once his brother is gone, Gino curls on his side, staring unseeing at the wall. His hands clench around each other, tight enough that it would hurt if he could notice it. He can't stop thinking about it, any of it—Mrs. Corlioni finding him, Torey having to do everything and not really having time to himself, all his siblings' reactions, and their mothers…
He's hardly aware that his breathing has changed, turning ragged, or that his cheeks are wet.
He spends the next ten or so minutes—he's really not aware of the passage of time—with his face buried into his pillow, crying so hard that his shoulders tremble.
Gino's father is dead. He's dead, gone forever and never coming back. Gino will never again be able to talk to Augusto or laugh with him. He'll never have another chance to tell him how much he loves him. That's it, that's the end.
He cries until he's numb, and then he burrows under the blankets and goes blank.
***
no subject
Excellent job.
no subject
Thank you.
no subject
no subject
Thanks.
no subject
And you should be happy it did. But, I really enjoyed the love that came through, especially between Gino and Vito- plus, you can really feel how much everyone cared for Augusto. It's sweet. Owie, but sweet.
no subject
Thanks.