#I’m sORRYYY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vitos-pink-shirt · 2 years

Text

Title: This Life or That Life

Words: 2,795

Characters: Vito Scaletta, Joe Barbaro, and Henry Tomasino.

Content Warnings: None

Summary: After Vito teaches Eric a lesson, and Frankie tells Vito to stay away from him, Vito doesn't take it so well.

Notes: IDK what I'm doing, I just felt like there needed to be some time between the Frankie cutting Vito out of her life, and the house-fire incident, I also think he deserved to grieve for losing Frankie in a way. So this is set between the two incidents/maybe the house-fire doesn't happen? Either way, Vito gets drunk, he cries, but Joe and Henry love him and are great friends :) I don't write so this might be shit. Apologies. (also trying to get an AO3 account to put this there, but until then, here ya go.

They decided to go out drinking, just for fun, no real reason. They were all kind of surprised that Vito had suggested it though, typically he fought them to go to a baseball game or dinner or play poker, anything but go out drinking, especially not at the cathouse. As it was they were all just excited Vito was cutting a little loose, and they piled into Henry’s car, who begrudgingly let Vito drive, while he sat shotgun and Joe and Eddie were in the backseat, all on their way to a night at the cathouse.

They lost Eddie as soon as they got there, but that wasn’t new, he owned the place he was always disappearing in there. What was new was how much Vito was drinking.

Nobody had really been paying attention to how often Vito was going to the bar, or how adamantly he was avoiding talking to people. However, when Henry noticed Vito’s words slurring together as he tried telling Henry a story from the can, which he promptly bit off and walked away before he could finish it, Henry began slowing his own drinking down, but just kept an eye on Vito from a distance. Henry tried not to hover over Vito, but the more drinks he got mixed with that look on Vito’s face, that look that subtly flashed between so many emotions, most of which Henry couldn’t read fast enough; Henry was getting a little worried.

It wasn’t until Vito managed to piss off a couple guys at the bar, Henry figured he needed to step in on Vito’s night and he made his way over, as at the moment it looked like they were two more slurred insults outta Vito’s mouth away from beating the shit out of Vito, who never stopped angrily running his mouth.

Henry wasn’t worried, per say, but he hadn’t seen Joe in a while, but he must have heard Vito’s voice spitting insults, because he came flying out of one of the side rooms , and to his credit, Henry thought, Joe sobered up pretty fast and was over with Henry, wedging himself between Vito and one of the guys he pissed off, before Henry could even holler for him.

“Hey, back off man, you came to a bar, you’re gonna get spilt on.” Joe said.

“Yeah assholes, just go back to whatever the fuck you were doing.” Henry added.

The men hesitated before losing interest and throwing a muttered “it ain’t worth it” over their shoulders as they turned away from the trio.

“Shit, might be time to head home,” Henry said as he turned around to begin ushering Vito to the car, “where the hell did he go?”

Vito, who had been right behind them, had vanished.

“Ah shit…” Joe said as he began looking around. The two friends were looking for Vito and Eddie now, trying to get out the door before they got into any more trouble, as one of the girls approached Henry.

“I think your friend is in the bathroom, sounds like he might need… help?” She said with uncertainty before heading for a backroom. “Good luck!” She said over her shoulder.

Shit.

Did she mean Vito or Eddie? Henry wasn’t sure what type of help they would need, but he was suddenly hoping it wasn’t Eddie. He didn’t think he could clean up a drunk Eddie who managed to piss all over himself. Either way, Henry got Joe and together they went to the bathroom, where, to their relief, they found Vito, who was fully clothed. However, he was on the ground with his back against the wall, elbows on his knees, sunglasses pushed up on top of his head, which was in his hands, and he appeared to be quietly crying.

Shit.

Joe was by his side right away.

“Hey, hey, you alright Vito? You’re alright.” Joe was saying gently, sobering further, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Henry squatted next to Vito, carefully putting his hand on his other shoulder not really knowing what to say, “we oughta head home Joe.”

“‘M alright we- we don’t gotta leave.” Vito finally said, lifting his head as he quickly tried to clean up his face, hastily wiping at tears, leaving his face red. He was pretending like the other two hadn’t already seen the condition he was in.

“Nah pal, let's head home.” Joe insisted, shifting one of Vito’s arms over his shoulder. “Can you walk?”

“Mmm… yeah.”

Henry didn’t trust that as Vito seemed to forget how to get his feet under him, and guided his other arm over his shoulders before they stood with their friend and made their way out of the building, not before stopping to tell the bar keep that Eddie would be staying the night. The drunk bastard could call a cab in the morning.

Getting Vito to the car was easy enough, getting him in it was another story.

“Fuck Vito, could you at least try to get your self in there?” Joe complained as he tried shoving Vito in the back seat. Vito, on the other hand, was basically passed out, head rolled back and glasses moved back down over his half closed eyes, occasionally he’d mumble out something unintelligible. Henry wound up going to the other side of the car and pulling Vito in while Joe pushed. Once he was laid out across the backseat, Henry got behind the wheel and Joe got in shotgun. The drive back was quiet until Henry broke the silence.

“What the fuck is this about?” He asked, nodding back at Vito, who was laying down, passed out in the back.

“I honestly don’t have a clue. Sometimes he gets in a mood and acts like he’s gonna drink, but it’s usually all talk and he’s still pretty good by the end of the night.” Joe responded, glancing back at Vito.

“Well clearly something’s up-“

“No shit?” Joe bit back before sighing, “I don’t know Henry, you know as well as I do, that he don’t talk about whatever’s happening in his life unless it’s got to do with this life.”

“Yeah,” Henry hummed, “I’ve noticed.”

“Neither do you though, ya know.”

“Yeah, well you can worry about me later, right now let’s worry about getting his ass home.”

Joe let out a short huff of a laugh before the rest of the drive fell into an almost comfortable silence, comfortable if they weren’t so worried about their friend.

When they finally got to Vito’s house it was around 2:00 in the morning. Joe worked on getting Vito out of the car while Henry worked on picking the door’s lock. By the time he got it and was turning back to help Joe with Vito, Joe already had him in his arms heading up the steps to the front door.

Shaking off his surprise at Joe just casually carrying Vito, Henry opened the front door for Joe before following him inside and locking it behind them. Joe carried Vito to his bed where the two conscious men began taking off his shoes and dress shirt before helping him under the covers, setting his sunglasses on the night stand along with a glass of water.

When they had finished and walked out of the bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar, Joe said, “we should probably stay.”

Henry closed his eyes as they stood in the hallway of Vito’s house, he was tired but… he knew Joe was right, he knew Vito would do the same for them…

“Fine, but I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“Jackass. That’s fine, I'll sleep in the armchair.”

As the two other men got themselves ready to sleep, they couldn’t help but be worried for Vito.

When morning came, Henry and Joe woke up around 9:00, not at all well rested, but began making a good, greasy breakfast (which took real skill given how little food Vito had in his kitchen). It was really just Joe cooking, Henry watched him work, rather impressed, as he handed Joe ingredients and smoked his cigarette. Personally, Henry couldn’t cook for shit and just assumed neither could Joe or Vito, but he was clearly wrong about one of them.

Not long after they woke up they were alerted to Vito’s consciousness by a loud, and pained, groan coming from the bedroom.

“Madonna… why’d I leave the fucking curtains open?”

“How’s your head feeling?” Joe hollered from the kitchen.

“Shit…” they heard followed by another groan and the mattress slowly shifting. Vito emerged from the bedroom glaring in the morning light between his two best friends, who were dressed similar to him, and the food in the skillet on the stove, “what the fuck happened last night? Why are you two here?”

“You got shit faced last night and we had to haul your ass home.” Henry said standing by the kitchen window, cigarette between his lips. “Joe carried you all the way to your bed. It was a lot nicer than the way he carried me outta that burning building, and you hadn’t even gotten shot.”

“He really ain’t that heavy.”

Vito felt his face heat up as he made his way into the kitchen, “yeah, yeah, shut up and give me a cigarette.”

Henry complied and lit it for him once he had it between his lips.

“How come you two seem so… not hungover?” Vito asked after a few seconds of enjoying the smell of breakfast and the taste of the cigarette. Henry smoked a different kind from Vito, but after getting out of the can he couldn’t find it in himself to be as picky about what he smoked.

“Well you started drinking like a fish, and I stopped to keep an eye on you.” Henry started.

“And then you tried starting a fight with two fellas twice your size and we had to keep them off of you, that’s when I stopped drinking.” Joe continued for Henry.

“God,” Vito complained as he sat down at the table, shoving the playboy magazine Joe had gifted him when he moved in from the spot it had sat since,“well what happened to Eddie?”

“The usual,” Joe said with a shrug, “we lost him as soon as we got there and told the bar keep that he’d be staying the night once we got you outta the bathroom.”

“The fuck was I doing in the bathroom?” Vito asked, looking between the two other men as Joe began serving the fried egg, potato, and bacon skillet.

Henry poured them each a cup of coffee, “well, after those guys tried kicking your ass, we lost track of you again until someone told us you were in the bathroom.” They all sat down and began eating as he continued, “when we got in there you were pretty out of it; sitting on the floor and crying.” Henry said it bluntly, but there was some concern in his voice.

“Ah shit…” Vito said as he put his face in his hands.

“You weren’t making sense pal, so we just helped you out to the car.” Joe said softly, “it really isn’t that big of a deal but, you know I’m here for you if you’re going through something.”

“So am I.” Henry quickly added, feeling a little offended that Joe didn’t include him in the statement, but the look Joe gave him showed how grateful he was that Henry offered his support to Vito as well.

They ate quietly for a few minutes while Vito tried willing away the embarrassment of last night. Finally he said, “It.. it’s Frankie. She came by the other day all upset and she didn’t know what to do, said that piece of shit husband of hers had been hitting her, cheating on her, and just being a dead beat.”

“That fucker is hitting Frankie?” Joe exclaimed, “why haven’t we dumped him in the river already, Vito?”

“Because I already went and beat the shit out of him!” Vito shouted back, “Frankie asked me not to but what was I supposed to do? Just let him drag her down with him and let him turn her black and blue on the way? I couldn’t. I couldn’t sit there and let that shit happen!” Vito closed his eyes and sighed after barking out his frustration, his head was still too sore to yell that much, and body still too tired to hold onto his anger that long.

To Henry it looked like Vito was deflating and shrinking right there in that kitchen chair, “so what’s the issue then, if you took care of him?” Henry asked carefully.

“When he managed to drag his ass home, he apologized to Frankie and even though he didn’t say it, she knew it was me. She called me on the phone,” Vito abandoned his cigarette in the ashtray and moved his hands to his lap under the table so the other men couldn’t see them start to shake, “I- I could hear how scared she was through the line, she was afraid of me for what I did to that fuck. She told me to stay away from her, so- so I will.”

He tried finishing the sentence with a definitive tone, but the confidence wasn’t there, leaving the statement feeling as hollow as he did when she had first hung up the phone after calling him. Both he and the sentence were left to be filled with emotion after the anger left.

However, crying while he was too drunk to remember was one thing, but to cry while half dressed, completely sober, in front of his friends, who just so happened to be two of the baddest wise guys he knew, was quite another, Vito thought while trying to swallow the lump in his throat. And then Joe just had to gently put his hand on Vito’s back and Vito knew it was a losing battle, it was always the soft things Joe did that tipped Vito over the edge.

“Vito, why didn’t you say something earlier?” Joe asked, pulling him in for a side hug.

“What difference would it have made Joe?” Vito shouted trying to trade his threatening tears for anger. “It’s fine, now I don’t gotta worry about someone hurting her to get to me. Nobody can use her or Mama to get to me.” He had almost stopped the tears threatening to spill.

Almost.

He was so focused on staring at his plate that he didn’t see the look Joe and Henry shared. He couldn’t prepare himself for Henry to get up from the other side of the table and come around as they both wrapped their arms around him in a full body hug. After that he didn’t see anything as his eyes grew blurry and the tears he had almost banished escaped him. A few seconds of quietly letting his tears fall passed before the rest of his body reacted. While he made no noise, his shoulders shook and his chest hitched. Henry and Joe continued to hold him and rub his back, just letting him grieve for the last people in his family. His last tie to his life before everything; before the war, before prison, before Clemente or Falcone. His last tie to a life that wasn’t this life.

He didn’t really know how long he cried, but neither of the other men rushed him, they just quietly held him until he was finished. At the end of it when he had finished and the other two had pulled away, Vito was trying to wipe his face clean as Joe kept rubbing his back and Henry grabbed him a glass of water.

“I’m sorry, I-“ Vito began.

“Don’t start on that apology shit,” Henry cut him off before adding, softly, “you don’t have to apologize Vito.”

“Yeah, we’re here for you pal.” Joe added nodding.

Vito looked between the two of them and sighed, closing his eyes before saying, “I really appreciate it guys…”

“We know,” Henry said, knocking his shoulder lightly and softly smiled at him when he opened his eyes, “that’s all you gotta say.”

Joe nodded in support of Henry and Vito sighed again but it was different, it was lighter, and he smiled. The men went back to eating the now cooling breakfast, and enjoyed the comfortable quiet of the late morning.

As they finished and began cleaning up, Henry started doing dishes as Joe turned the radio on low, and Vito cleaned up the table, Vito couldn’t help but smile. He thought to himself; God, was he grateful, because whether it was this life or that life, he was going to have Joe and Henry with him no matter what.

#mafia 2 #mafia ii #vito scaletta #joe barbaro #henry tomasino #mafia two #I’m sorryyy #pink shirt posts

9 notes · View notes