A Promessa

Figlio Surrogato

Sometimes, a man can be your father without sharing your blood.

—*—

"I'm leaving, Dad. And if you or Herpes the clown over here...!"

"Hey!"

"...Try to stop me; you'll learn firsthand just how good I've gotten at my job."

Those were Moxxie's last words before Alessio ambushed him from behind and —admittedly, to his regret—tazzed him unconscious.

"Now take care of the others."

"Understood." Alessio nodded before leaving the room.

As he relayed Crimson's orders to the men, Alessio couldn't help thinking about Moxxie. It's been years since he last saw him, but he hadn't changed. 

No, that's not right. Not entirely. Moxxie has a wife now. Alessio kind of felt bad for her. Last night, he could tell that they truly loved each other. For a second, he thought Moxxie would tell her the truth about the situation, but in the end, he didn't. It reminded him of the secrets he had kept from Bianca back then.

With his task complete, the consigliere went upstairs to ensure Moxxie was prepared for the... ceremony. As he approached the door to the room, he heard the unmistakable sound of Cleo's irritated voice.

"Not that one! Do you want Crimson's son to look like a tramp at his wedding?!"

When he entered the room, he found a peculiar sight: Moxxie's arms had been tied up to his sides and his mouth taped, Nickel was holding two dresses that were certainly not meant for a wedding, Cleo was calling him out on them, and Quint was trying to draw a smiling mouth on the tape gag with some red lipstick. Not for the first time, he felt bad for Moxxie. 

Still, Alessio's stone face didn't change. A consigliere must always keep his composure. 

Good thing today was Jawns's day off. He would have never heard the end of it.

"Leave us," he said, making his presence known.

"Can't you give us a little more time? We haven't decided on a dress—"

"Out."

The sternness in Alessio's voice made the three sharks scramble out of the room... before Quint hurriedly came back in to draw one more line in the smiling mouth before retreating. Once the two were alone in the room, Alessio allowed his expression to soften up in the slightest as he went to check on Moxxie.

Sorry for Quint, but Alessio removed the duct tape from his sinson's mouth.

"OW!"

"There's no need for that just yet." His stomach sank as he saw the burnt flesh on Moxxie's neck. "My apologies about the tazzing. Just following orders."

Part of him half-expected Moxxie to begin hurling insults or cursing him for putting him in this situation, but he didn't. "It's... It's alright, Al. It's not like you had any other choice either."

Alessio is used to being called 'Ale' or 'Al' by almost everyone, but hearing Moxxie call him that after all these years felt... strange. An awkward silence hung in the room as the shark brushed Moxxie's hair if only to spare his charge any more verbal berating on Crimson's part for 'looking like a tramp.' Alessio frowned. He doesn't agree with some of Crimson's... methods, but he only offers his opinion occasionally, and even then, he follows the Don's orders to the letter. And this includes whatever happens with Moxxie.

"I...I heard that you and Bianca had two children. Congratulations." Moxxie whispered. Alessio was surprised at the attempt to start a conversation.

"Thank you..." Alessio sighed. "It's a pity she didn't meet your mother. I think they would have gotten along."

"Bianca was a good woman, wasn't she?"

"Yeah..." Alessio put the brush down and sadly glanced toward the window. "She was."

Moxxie seemed to understand what he implied by talking in the past tense. "...I'm sorry."

"It's okay, piccolo. I still miss Bianca sometimes, but I'm getting better."

Moxxie blinked. "It's been years since you called me that."

"You might not be around here anymore, but as far as I'm concerned, you still are the little Impling who gave me a headache every weekend." he chuckled.

And yet, most of Alessio's memories of little Moxxie were fond. He'd been there ever since he was born. He held him when Father Elder Jaws baptized him. He'd tended to him after... his mother died. Crimson's harsh and standoffish attitude towards his only son had driven the little one to search for affection in someone else... and that person happened to be Alessio himself. At first, he tried to keep an emotional distance, but in the end, he didn't have the heart to reject the then-impling. He was the boy's sinfather, after all. 

So, when Crimson wasn't watching, Alessio showed subtle tidbits of affectionate interest in Moxxie. He sneaked him bread when he was sent to bed without supper, alerted him when his father was home so he'd have time to hide the little toy guitar his mom gave him, and allowed his charge to hug him—sometimes even reciprocating it—when he was upset, among other things.

Little by little, he developed an affection for Moxxie. He came to care about the little one's emotional well-being and safety. However, he could not protect him from Crimson's upbringing. As much as he'd come to see Moxxie as a surrogate son, Alessio was not the boy's father. Crimson was, and he was free to discipline him however he saw fit. The only thing Alessio could do was to offer a little comfort.

"Hey, Alessio..."

"What is it?"

"Well, since I'm here... I never got to thank you for your... wedding gift." Moxxie briefly looked up to meet his gaze. "Thank you. It meant a lot to me."

Alessio gave him a barely noticeable smile. "I had the feeling that you wouldn't be coming back, so I figured you'd want the only photo of your mother that wasn't thrown into the shredder."

The shark looked into the wardrobe for something: a small white wedding dress, the very same dress worn by Moxxie's mother for her wedding with Crimson. It was in good condition despite years of neglect.

"Looks like I found the perfect fit for you, piccolo," he said, placing the dress beside Moxxie. Alessio sighed. "I'm afraid I must be taking my leave. There are still... preparations to be done."

Moxxie looked at him sadly. "... I guess there's no way you can help me escape, right?"

"You know my duty is to your father... I'm sorry."

"It's alright. You might find this odd, but... I don't blame you, Al. In a way, you're as much of a victim to my father as me."

Alessio froze, eyes widening in utter shock.

"It's okay, Alessio. I don't blame you for just performing your duty to Crimson. In a way, you're as much of a victim as I am.... Just do me a favor."

"A favor, ma'am?"

"...Look after Moxxie for me. He will need someone to support him once I'm gone."

His hand trembled as he reached out to grab the doorknob. Alessio took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"...I wish you the best of luck, Moxxie."

With those parting words, Alessio left the room. Cleo, Quint, and Nickel were still outside, awaiting further instructions.

"I left the dress on the bed. Put it on him, but be careful not to damage it," Alessio told them sternly before walking off. "And hurry up. The ceremony will begin shortly."

"Yes, sir!"

With no further tasks for the time being, Alessio headed down to the living room. Crimson surely won't mind if he takes a few minutes to himself.

He needs a fucking drink.