Despite the fever burning in his body messing with his head, Giorno realized why he had felt so wrong about this whole situation.
It was wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be here. This wasn’t his family anymore, he had a new family. One who actually treated him like family. He shouldn’t be here. He didn’t belong here anymore.
“G-Gold,” Giorno croaked, a congested cough forcing him to curl onto his bed.
His Stand flickered before him briefly, a look of concern on Gold’s face as he reached out toward Giorno. Giorno reached a shaky hand back, but a wave of dizziness stole his Stand away. He was even too weak to summon Gold fully right now.
But something had happened, obviously. He must have been under the hold of a Stand, and if that was the case, if he remembered now, maybe that meant the others were looking for him. Maybe they knew where he was. Maybe they were coming…
He had to confront his mother and stepfather. He had to know what they had done. He had to get out of here…he just wasn’t sure he could make it that far.
He made it to the door, a small victory, and staggered down the stairs, gripping the handrail tightly, knees shaking.
His mother and stepfather were watching television in the living room when Giorno appeared, gripping the doorframe to keep himself upright, head swimming.
For the @febuwhump alternate prompt #5: “Hostage Situation”
Fandom: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Golden Wind
Synopsis: Giorno and Narancia are taken as hostages. But Bucciarati doesn't deal with anyone who threatens his famiglia.
This is my last Febuwhump story for the month, thanks to everyone who has read and commented and liked/reblogged and stuff! I had a lot of fun doing these ^_^
If you enjoyed the stories, please consider checking out my ko-fi! I do art and fic commissions or if you just want to buy me a coffee, you can request a doodle :)
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Read on Ao3
Read on FF.net
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Giorno tested the ropes for the hundredth time, but they were still not moving. And thanks to the dampening power of the stand their captive had, he could not simply use Gold Experience to change the ropes into vines and escape.
Narancia grunted, tied to a chair behind him so that they were back to back. He shifted, hitting Giorno's chair with his own. He didn't seem to be having any better luck.
"I can't believe we let this happen!" Narancia moaned. "Bucciarati's going to kill us for this! It was supposed to just be a simple reconnaissance mission!"
Giorno sighed. Narancia was right, this was definitely not one of their better moments. Though with their enemy's Stand ability, he supposed they couldn't entirely be blamed either. Narancia would have seen them approaching if Aerosmith's radar hadn't suddenly cut out. And by then it was too late for Giorno to realize that he couldn't use his ability either.
The door to the room they had been put in creaked open and in strode the Stand user and two of his men. Narancia wrenched himself around to see, and Giorno straightened up, glaring defiantly. The Stand user met his gaze, nonplussed.
"So, Don Giovanna," he said mockingly, striding up to the teen and making a point to get into his personal space. "When do you think Bucciarati will be here?"
Giorno continued to glare, not giving an answer.
The Stand user reached out and grabbed his collar, wrenching him forward until his bound arms began to sing with pain. "You do realize what will happen to you if he doesn't return my man to me, right?"
Giorno pressed his lips together into a thin line. They'd taken one of this man's operation captive to grill for information on a new, reportedly very dangerous, drug ring that had cropped up. They had gotten the information they had needed. At least some of it. After finding out the location of their base of operations, Giorno and Narancia had gone on a reconnaissance mission, but now they were captured and the ringleader they were going after thought he could hold them for ransom until Bucciarati returned his own captive.
Giorno didn't know what conversation had already happened, but he met the man's eyes firmly. "We don't make deals with drug peddlers."
The man slapped him across the face.
"You asshole!" Narancia snapped.
"You think Bucciarati has a choice? You're the Don of Passione now, Giorno Giovanna. He's not going to give you up." Giorno looked up, licking his split lip and feeling the sting spreading across his cheek. "You're actually worth something."
"And your man is compromised, therefor worth nothing," Giorno informed him. "How do you think we found you? Why do you want him back?"
The man seethed before he bit back his anger. "That's none of your business."
"Because he's the only one who can manufacture the drugs, correct?" Giorno continued. "He's told us that already." The man's eyes blew wide and he seethed even more. "If you think for a second that Bucciarati and I don't have an agreement that keeping him away from you isn't more important than saving my life you're wrong."
The hand grabbed his collar again and the man got into his face, spit flying and hitting Giorno's cheek. "You insolent little upstart! I'll send you back to Bucciarati in pieces!"
"Give me the phone," the ringleader snapped, holding out his hand as one of his men handed him a mobile phone. He dialed a number and after a few seconds snapped, "Bucciarati? Yeah, it's me again. I'm done waiting. I'll give you one hour before I start cutting bits off Giovanna and the mop-haired kid. If you want there to be anything left of them, you'll follow my instructions." He ended the call before giving Bruno a chance to speak and handed the phone back to his man before he reached into his coat, pulling out a small case.
"Just to make sure you two don't make any trouble while I'm gone I'm going to let you sample a little of the goods."
He opened the case and revealed several small bottles and syringes. He handed one of each to one of his men who went over to a table to fill it. Giorno swallowed hard.
"What is it?" he demanded.
The ringleader grinned. "Something real nice. Our own special recipe. Good and strong. Knock you right off your feet. You might just decide you like it."
"How much, boss?"
"Not enough to kill them," the ringleader said dismissively.
"Hey, get away from me, you asshole!" Narancia snarled, tugging at his ropes again. Giorno craned his head to watch helplessly over his shoulder as the goon grabbed Narancia by the chin and wrenched his head to one side, jabbing the needle into his neck.
"Narancia!" Giorno shouted as the other young man cried out, jerking in the chair.
It was then he realized the ringleader also had a syringe ready, and the man's hand gripped Giorno's hair, wrenching his head back to bare his throat. Giorno struggled as he heard Narancia groan and slump heavily against the back of the chair, head resting against Giorno.
"You'll regret this," Giorno told the ringleader firmly.
"You're the one who's going to regret this, Giovanna. You and that insufferable do-gooder, Bucciarati." He stuck the syringe into Giorno's neck and Giorno was unable to help a gasp as he felt the drug ejected into his veins, cold and unwelcome. He shuddered, trying to fight the sudden nausea and drowsiness that overcame him. He blinked heavily, trying to curl his lip at the sneering man hovering over him, but then everything just got too blurry and he was forced to close his eyes and drift into the unwanted darkness.
~~~~~~~
Bucciarati slammed the phone down with a curse. He glanced over at Abbacchio and Mista who were standing guard over their captive, Mista's gun under his throat so he wouldn't try to say anything.
"We need to go," Bucciarati said firmly. "We're running out of time."
Abbacchio cursed as well, grabbing a cloth to clean off bloody hands.
"And what are we doing with this bastard?" Mista asked, jabbing his gun harder into the man's chin.
"We'll deal with him later," Bucciarati said darkly.
"W-wait! You're not exchanging me for the brats?" the man started. "You know what my boss is gonna do right? He's gonna kill them!"
Abbacchio slammed a fist into his nose and the man's head snapped back as he cried out, blood streaming down his lip to join what was already there.
"Shut your damn mouth," Abbacchio snarled. "I'll tell Fugo to go get the car."
Bucciarati nodded to Mista and they made sure their prisoner was secure before they left and locked the room.
"Hey Bruno, what about that guy's Stand? Doesn't it knock out other Stand abilities?" Mista asked.
Bucciarati gave him a look that was actually genuinely scary. "I think all of us were perfectly capable even before we got Stands, don't you, Mista?"
Mista gave him a lopsided grin. "Hell yeah. Let's go save Giorno and Narancia."
They made quick work of the details. Mista and Fugo went to cause a distraction and Bucciarati and Abbacchio rushed in the back using Sticky Fingers. They must still be out of range, but Bucciarati didn't think that would last long.
As they started to hear Mista firing off shots, Abbacchio glanced over at him, checking his own gun hidden under the tail of his coat. "Ready?"
Bruno nodded, taking his from the holster inside his coat under his arm. "Let's go."
They hurried on until they found one wayward goon, who Abbacchio nabbed instantly, slamming into the wall.
"Where are they?" he demanded, gun jabbed under his chin.
The man whimpered and pointed shakily down the hall, not even bothering to ask. "L-last door."
Bucciarati nodded and used Sticky Fingers to punch the man, unzipping him into pieces.
They hurried down the hall, listening to the chaos ensuing outside and when they got to the last door, Bucciarati stepped aside to let Abbacchio kick it in.
They came to a stop when they saw the ringleader standing inside the room beside a bound Giorno, holding his head up and pressing a gun to the boy's temple. Another man was likewise threatening Narancia. Both boys looked unconscious or nearly so, eyes rolled up in their heads, bodies limp.
Bucciarati swallowed down his fury, knowing that keeping his head here was the only thing that was going to save them all.
"Ah, Bucciarati," the ringleader said. "I see you failed to do as I asked. I don't see my man."
"No, you don't," Bucciarati said firmly. "But you might see him soon. In hell."
The ringleader smirked. "What are you going to do? Try me, your Stands won't work here. But feel free to wrestle me for the gun if you want to see your precious golden boy with his brains splattered on the floor."
Bucciarati and Abbacchio didn't waste time with banter. They both whipped out their guns, taking everyone in the room by surprise. Bucciarati's bullet found the ringleader's skull and Abbacchio's took out the goon holding Narancia, they then both ducked the other goon's bullet before taking him out simultaneously.
"Smug bastard," Abbacchio snarled, kicking the ringleader's body before kicking his gun away from the dead hand.
Bruno was already putting his gun away and heading to Giorno whose chair had toppled during the chaos.
"Giorno," he called worriedly, pulling out his knife to start cutting through the ropes tying the boy to the chair.
"They gave them something," Abbacchio grunted, untying Narancia as well and pulling him up. The boy moaned, blinking woozily, head lolling.
"A-Abba," he murmured.
"Hey, kid," Abbacchio said kindly with a small smile as he pulled Narancia into his arms and simply picked him up. Narancia wearily wrapped his arms around Abbacchio's neck, burying his face in his shoulder.
Bucciarati finally got Giorno untied and reached down to cup the boy's cheek as his eyes twitched.
"Giorno?"
"Mm, Buccia-rati?" Giorno murmured, blinking once before he winced and squeezed his eyes shut again.
"Shh, you're safe now."
"Naran—"
"He's fine, Abbacchio has him. It's all over."
"Got him?" Abbacchio asked as Bucciarati wrapped one of Giorno's arms over his shoulders and got an arm under his knees.
"Yes," Bucciarati replied, standing up with his precious burden. "Let's go."
They hurried out, meeting Mista half way. He came to a stop, holding his gun up, eyes widening as he saw Giorno and Narancia.
"They all right?"
"Drugged," Bruno said darkly. "Go get the car."
"Fugo's already on it."
They hurried out and Bucciarati and Abbacchio carefully settled Giorno and Narancia into the back before they got out of there.
Bruno glanced back at the boys, again trying to quell his fury. They were all right. But the idea of what had happened to them, or nearly so still made him mad. One day, one day their city would be free of people like this.
~~~~~~~
Giorno peeled his eyes open; everything felt so uncomfortable. He was hot and cold at the same time and his head really hurt. Everything seemed really bright too, stabbing his eyes. He tried to roll over with a groan, but his stomach twisted and he suddenly felt an overwhelming bout of nausea wash over him.
He whimpered sickly, wrapping his arms around his middle.
"Easy, just stay still," a firm but soft voice commanded, taking hold of his shoulder and pressing him back. Something cool wiped across his forehead and Giorno sighed and leaned into it. Fingers slid his hair away from his eyes.
"Bucciarati?" Giorno mumbled.
"I'm here," the voice said again.
Giorno relaxed slightly. "Wha' happened?"
"You and Narancia were drugged by the dealers. You'll probably feel bad for a little while, but you should be able to sleep it off. Do you think you can manage something to drink before you go back to sleep? You need to stay hydrated."
Giorno groaned, not making any motion to move. "Stomach." He didn't think he could even put water in there right now.
Bruno hummed in understanding. "Well, maybe we'll hold off for a couple more hours until your stomach settles."
Giorno murmured in agreement and buried his face in the pillow again. "It's over?" he asked.
"Yes. Another drug ring taken off the streets. I'm just sorry this happened to you and Narancia in the process."
"Still got them," Giorno said blearily with a small smile.
Bucciarati chuckled. "Yes, we did." He pulled the blankets up further around Giorno's shoulders, using them to shield his eyes a bit as well. "Rest now."
Giorno murmured and curled up, his exhaustion winning out over the stomach cramps and the ache in his head. Someday, they wouldn't have to worry about any more drug dealers in Napoli, but today, Don of Passione or not, he just really needed to sleep.
