(TW: ED implied / drug use / su!cidal behavior / severely depressed Spy)
(Side note: I use “Tony” as the Mobster’s name. “Big Tony” is another one of his official nicknames so I’d rather call him that then mobster every single time lol)
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At the crack of dawn, Spy was the first one up per usual. Maskless but still fully dressed, tiredly stumbling over to the kitchen. As if his recent breakup wasn’t already affecting him, poor thing had accidentally stubbed his toe against the vacuum cleaner. The one that Scout had forgot to put away last evening. Spy loudly groaned in pain. Spiraling into a fit of rage. He began shouting out curses in his native tongue. He then angrily stomped over to the fridge, ripping the door open. Pulling out a plastic container of blackberries. Ferociously opening the top off and dreadfully shoving a handful into his mouth. Spy shut the container closed, tossing it back into the fridge. Then slammed the fridge door shut. He spun back around, abruptly frozen in place. Spy’s eyes widened tremendously. Just now realizing that he wasn't alone this morning like usual.
There stood his boss in the kitchen entrance. Having witnessed his whole tantrum. Spy huffed in distress and utter embarrassment. He quickly walked past him. Tony worriedly glanced up and down at Spy's visibly frustrated aura. It was already a rarity to see Spy’s face. Tony didn’t appreciate seeing his distressed expression this early in the morning.
"My apologies. I-I haven't had a cigarette yet. Please excuse me." Spy firmly told. Jogging over to the backdoor to hide out on the patio to their base. He swiftly shoved both hands into his pockets. Pulling out his metal lighter and a rolled joint. Spy then flinched hearing the backdoor creak open again. His heart sank realizing he had been followed.
"I didn't know you smoked marijuana cigarettes." Tony abruptly spoke up. Spy snapped his neck to look back up at his boss towered behind him. Replying with a muffled “Mhm.” Before frantically putting the joint between his lips. Focusing in on his much “needed” morning hit. Tony suddenly swiped the metal lighter from Spy's fingers. Causing the Frenchman to let out an angry and confused whine. Tony then quickly flicked the lighter open. Sparking the flame up to his joint to light it up for him. Spy eagerly inhaled, watching the joint slowly ignite. Making sure to puff out the smoke away from his boss's face. His very concerned looking face.
"C'mon, we're at home for now. What's got you so mad?" Tony curiously asked. Spy took in a sharp breath and huffed. Taking the joint away from his lips temporarily. Listing all that out would take ages and make him even more frustrated in the process.
"There's so much to be mad at in this world. Doesn't matter if I'm here or at work!" Spy bitterly answered. Visibly on edge. Refusing to go into any more detail. The mobster was usually persistent but he refused to pry this man any further. Tony let out a small sigh before replying.
"I think you just need to eat some breakfast and try to relax." Tony hesitantly recommended. Spy rolled his eyes. To the Frenchman, that simple phrase sounded much easier said than done.
"I already ate.” Spy quickly replied. Tony snickered.
“C’mon now. A handful of berries is not a meal.” Tony firmly rebutted. Spy let out another frustrated sigh. He loathed hearing that unfortunately true fact.
“It is for me. Personally, I’d rather saw my own hand off than wash another stupid dish! Just to cook something that’s not even going to taste that good. I hate cooking. It's so messy and time consuming, JUST LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE!" Spy vented and griped while clenching his fist. Tony worriedly gazed up and down at the man’s distressed body language. This tiny European clearly had lots of rage and despair festering within. Tony slowly reached a hand out and gently squeezed the man's shoulder. Spy’s eyes immediately darted down to his boss’s massive fingers. A few of them decorated with his shiny gold rings.
"You just focus on calmin’ down those nerves. I'll make ya somethin'." Tony kindly offered. Spy bashfully groaned.
"You don't have to do all that." Spy anxiously grumbled.
"Yeah, I know...but I want to. I was going to anyway. C'mon, let me make ya an omelet or somethin’." Tony continued to offer. Spy inevitably gave in.
"...That does sound good." Spy muttered. Tony perked up with a wide grin.
"Yeah it does. You allergic to anything I should know about?" Tony curiously asked.
"No. Just cooking." Spy slyly replied. Putting the lit joint back up to his lips. Tony snickered and patted the man's back.
'And being alive most days.'
Spy dreadfully thought to himself while inhaling another big puff of smoke.
“You stay here and finish that up. I’ll go whip up a mean veggie and cheese omelet for ya.” Tony replied with an eager grin.
“…Thank you.” Spy shyly muttered before Tony exited the patio. Actively watching him walk back inside to the kitchen through the back doors small window. Taking in another much needed deep breath before glancing back at the wooded area not too far from their base. Staring out at the sky along with a couple of doves flying off in the distance. Intently staring at them soar across the sky. A couple streams of tears inevitably rolled down his bare cheeks.
‘I do hope life feels like that again someday.’
‘I doubt that…but go on. Be delusional. I won’t stop you.’
‘Oh, shut up! One of us has to keep this minuscule crumb of hope alive.’
