His first memory of when he first met Gianni had been a sweet one. He be that had often brought him comfort during the long nights of work. What they had started back then and how it had all come together now. When he first saw the dark haired man Rafaele Machiavelli had been so struck he was almost sorechless. The other male had come with the group of younger family members they had been trying to get to join the cause. Hunting down for he Cappadocians. Making every single one of them pay for what they had done and what they still could do.
That had been the only time his dedicstion to the cause had wavered.
Eventually he and Gianni would spend more time together. The man was a force to be reckoned with. In public and private. He had drive, passion, dreams. When was the last time Rafaele had had a dream? They had begun to plan out a life after all of this. Once the work was done and they found themselves lacking direction they would build that life together. When they had time to themselves that was all they had talked about. Dreamed of together.
But the years had marched on. ORG had grown massive from its humble beginnings and Rafaele was its head. It wasn’t like running a household but it was important nonetheless. To keep them all from the grips of the Cappadocians he had sacrificed much.
Perhaps too much.
Gianni had grown restless; he knew this. After leave my ORG after years of being a part of it to raise their children the other male was weary. The life that they had dreamed about, so carefully planned hadn’t even gotten off the ground. Gianni and the boys had spent most of the years in the country villa while Rafaele worked. When and how often he came home varied weekly.
First had come Romeo. Their first born son, their pride and joy. The hope for the future. And not long after him they were blessed with a second son. Marius. The years after we’re good and the Machiavelli believed everything was fine.
The last memory of Gianni was a painful one. He had grown tired of the crusade, a jab at what he did that the rest of the famiglia liked to use as a joke towards him. They called him a mad dog, he was obsessed. Couldn’t let the past go. But he wasn’t looking at the past anymore, all Rafaele saw was the future, The freight train waiting just around the next corner. Gianni couldn’t see it. At least not anymore.
The sound of broken glass. Raised voices and clenched fists.
“When? Tell me. When? Tomorrow? A week a month from now? Ten years? A century. When Rafaele. Tell me I’m not waitng on something that will never come.” Dark eyes glistening in the dim candle light of the room. He couldn’t. Rafaele couldn’t tell him when because he didn’t even know himself.
“You are missing out on them. Everyday Romeo asks for you and what am I supposed to tell him? Maybe today if he’s really good? Gods Rafaele how selfish can you be.”
Manicured claws tapped heavily on the oak desk that Rafaele leaned on. His brows furrowed as a storm raged in those dark grey eyes. “I don’t know, Gianni…” His voice was husky, the muscles in his throat constricting to almost cut off any sound completely. The moment was surreal. Almost as if he were outside his body watching it happen, unable to stop or take control.
“I can’t wait forever for you. I won’t wait for you to decide what your priorities are. Those boys cannot wait and they won’t once they are old enough to realize just exactly who you are, Rafaele.” The words bit, they stung and cut. Full of bitterness. Full of mourning the loss of what they once had.
What could he say? Don’t do this? He’ll change? Shift his priorities? The Machiavelli had said it all before. What would make him think that Gianni would believe him this time? Nothing. Because it was just a band aid ripped off later when the truth of it came out.
Turning to the fireplace mantle Rafaele sipped at his bourbon in silence. His mind ticked away as quickly as he could process what was happening to him. Gianni had left a long time ago, physically he had remained but he continued to drift away. And now he was so far out to sea that Rafaele couldn’t even see his sails.
A harsh sound of a door closing. The front door. Turning Gianni was gone. He had left. His glass shattered in his hand, blood running down his arm, staining the white shirt beneath his coat sleeve. “Don’t go.” But the words had come too late. They echoed in the empty room until the sound of shuffling near the entryway to the room caught Rafaele’s attention.
There peeking around the door frame was Romeo. Still so small. So innocent and unknowing of this world’s harshness. In the small boy’s arms sat tiny Marius. Eyes wide and full of wonder. Romeo’s eyes were wide but they were not full of wonder. “Father….” The voice was hushed. “Is…did….”
Rafaele wiped his bloody hand off on a handkerchief, wrapping it around his hand to staunch the bleeding before he crossed the room and scooped both of his boys up into his arms and carried them over to his chair where he sat holding his sons. What could he tell them? What would they even understand? He smoothed out Romeo’s sleep mussed hair before kissing Marius’ peach fuzz covered head. Just as he had been before he was speechless. The words would not come. One day he would have to apologize to them, but for now they were still too young.
“It’s just going to be us for a while.” The older vampire mumbled.
The boys did not understand. Romeo was relentless in his need for Gianni and this went on for years. Marius was a bit easier as he only had a few memories of their other father. Or so he assumed since he didn’t seem to be as difficult as Romeo was being. Eventually as they grew Rafaele began to pull away again. Their fate left to the Nannie’s and teachers to keep the boy’s minds sharp. Nothing but the best for them of course. Rafaele would visit from time to time but never for very long.
Romeo eventually stopped asking for Gianni.