Big Sister Fujioka

Life of Crime

Geez, I didn't expect that much positive feedback! But I'm glad all the same! I came across a Mafia!AU thread on a tumblr blog and it gave me the inspiration for this! Also, I needed more practice with angst. This worked good.

Disclaimer: I still don't own the ORIGINAL characters.

WARNING! THIS CHAPTER IS RATED 'M' FOR VIOLENCE, BLOOD, SEXUAL THEMES, ATTEMPTED RAPE, MENTIONS OF RAPE, AND MINOR CHARACTER DEATH! DON'T LIKE? DON'T READ!

Tamaki's eyelids fluttered open in the grey darkness. That was the only way he could tell it was daytime down here; when the cellar was more grey than black.

Grunting a little with the effort, the nine year old slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. His face hurt from pressing against the cement all night long, but he hardly registered the stiffness. It never went away anymore.

Inching across the floor to the cellar bars, he picked up the glass of water waiting for him. Sipping at the liquid, Tamaki had to force himself not to gulp it down. He only got two of these a day... he had to savor it.

"Mon fils? Tamaki, are you awake?"

"Maman!" The blond set down the glass carefully and smiled, even though he knew his mother couldn't see it. Reaching out of his cell, he watched as a larger, colder hand came out of the cell to his left to hold it, "I'm up, Maman. How did you sleep?"

"Fine, fine. And you?"

"Okay, Maman." He hesitated, squeezing her cold hand with his own, "I... had the dream again."

His mother took a moment to respond. Tamaki liked to imagine what her face looked like whenever he told her that. He liked to see in his mind's eye her soft smile, the twinkle in her eyes as she reminisced.

"Would you tell me about your dream, mon fils? I love your dreams."

"Of course, Maman. It started with the screams, like always, but it was the mean men and Uncle screaming this time. You told me to not be afraid when they came down the stairs, and I wasn't, Maman! I heard you laugh. And then... he was there. Papa was opening my cage. You were there, too! He took us home, Maman!" He smiled, a tear tracing his cheek, "And then... I woke up."

There was silence in the cellar once again. It stretched for a moment too long. Long enough for Tamaki to hastily wipe away the tears with his free hand. Long enough for him to ask, "Maman? Tell me about Papa again?"

"Your father..." the woman sighed. Tamaki leaned his head against the cement wall, picturing his mother doing the same behind him, "Your father... was unlike anyone you've ever met, mon fils. He was strong and brave, yes, but also kind. His hands were soft as we danced, and his voice softer. He didn't care who your uncle was, or my last name... he said he saw my soul. He said... he said I had the most beautiful heart of anyone he's ever known. He had brown, chestnut hair and matching eyes. There were scars on his face, but his smile was still beautiful and warm... oh, Tamaki. I wish he'd met you."

Tamaki stared at their clasped hands. His mother's looked so withered, and yet dainty and soft. How graceful she must've been... until he had been born. Until her brother had locked her and her bastard son in the cellar. Until she'd had Tamaki with the boss of a rival family.

Until him.

"Maman? Does Papa know about me?"

"Yes. I told him about you as soon as I could. He wanted to take us, mon fils. He... he wanted us safe. But..."

"...But Uncle found out."

A heartbeat passed.

"Yes."