Risotto woke up at his desk in the den. He sat up and looked around the dark room. There was a pain in his neck. There was pain. He died. He'd been shot. He looked down at his chest and saw there were little scars littering his abdomen. How did I get here? I was fighting that kid to get to the boss. He obviously knew something. How was he back at base? He was the only one left. Who would have brought him back? He stood up and headed towards the door. He opened it and headed down the hall into the living room. What he saw there couldn't be real.

"Prosciutto?" Risotto was frozen to the spot as his second-in-command turned around to look at him.

"Riz, hey, can you tell me what happened? Last thing I remember I was fighting Bucciarati and I was thrown from the train and Pesci was fighting and...it's hazy after that." He walked over to Risotto holding his head as he tried to recall. "Was the mission a success? Is that why Pesci brought me back here?"

Risotto took a step towards him. He reached out and grabbed Prosciutto's lapel in his fist, tugging him closer.

"Capo?" He felt real. Prosciutto's chest rose and fell against his hand. Risotto looked into his confused face and saw a small moon shaped scar on his temple. He also has scars of his battle. The battles had definitely happened, and yet, here they were. Standing, breathing, talking. It shouldn't be possible. He closed the last of the gap between them by throwing his arm around him tight. He buried his face into his shoulder as he heard a startled gasp from Prosciutto. The faint smell of cigar and cologne enveloped him.

He's here. This is real. He's real.

"...R-Riz?..." Prosciutto stuttered. He hesitantly pressed his hands against Risotto's back. "Something happened....didn't it? Is Pesci okay?" He heard a yelling commotion upstairs. Risotto looked up just as Prosciutto turned towards the stairs. He reluctantly let go and looked into his face again. He's back. I got him back. Risotto then looked up into the open second floor to see more of his gang bickering in the hall. He strode towards the stairs, Prosciutto close on his heels.

"What the fuck is going on?!" Ghiaccio was screaming as Pesci squeezed the life out of Illuso. Risotto paused at the top of the stairs as Prosciutto walked past him.

"What are you yelling ab—" Prosciutto stopped as he saw Illuso.

"Prosciutto too? What the hell is going on here?! You're supposed to be dead! You're all dead! What the fuck is happening?" Ghiaccio continued raging. Pesci turned at the mention of his mentor. He released his grip on Illuso and ran until he crashed into Prosciutto sobbing.

"Fratello!" Pesci squeezed him tight. Prosciutto mechanically put his arms around him as he continued staring at Illuso.

"Wait, then that means—?" Ghiaccio paused his rant as the thought hit him. He ran over past Illuso to Melone's door and tried to open it but it was locked. "Open the goddamn door!" He pounded his fists against it over and over. Formaggio came out of his room behind him.

"What's all the screaming about?" He yawned and stretched.

"Formaggio!" Illuso and Pesci yelled in unison.

"Holyshitwhyarewescreaming!?" Formaggio blurted in response as Illuso put him in a headlock laughing.

"Open the fuck up, you stupid dumbass!" Ghiaccio's yells quickly became choked in his throat as he tried to scream through it. "You have to be in there!" The door unlocked and Melone stood there rubbing his maskless eyes.

"Ghiaccio, what are you so mad about this early? Calm down. Wha—?" He was cut off by Ghiaccio smacking him in the arm and then, in the same motion, pulling him in for a hug as his face contorted from rage to tears. Bewildered, Melone put a hand on Ghiaccio's back and observed the scene in the hallway as Illuso hugged Formaggio laughing and Pesci continued to sob on Prosciutto.

"What's going on?" Melone asked.

"It seems we've all been...returned," Risotto said slowly.

"Returned or saved?" a voice said on the stairs behind him. Risotto turned to see Sorbet walking up the stairs from his old room downstairs. Risotto couldn't find his voice to answer. He'd spent so long next to this man's grave. He'd assembled the pieces of his body back together after they had been delivered framed to the base. As withdrawn as Sorbet was, Risotto respected this man profoundly and took his and Gelato's deaths personally. He'd refused to put anymore of his men's lives at risk searching for the Boss. He didn't show it, but he cared for his men deeply. Prosciutto turned to look at the newcomer.

"S-Sorbet?" Prosciutto managed to muster before becoming silent himself. Sorbet was covered in scars. He had one across his face bisecting his nose, another over his throat, and the last visible one across his chest. He noticed his hands similarly cut. Risotto imagined his body must have been covered with long horizontal scars from the savagery of the Boss's message to La Squadra.

"SORBET!" They all turned to the left to see Gelato coming out of his room down the hall. Sorbet's eyes widened as he pushed past Risotto and Prosciutto to sprint to his lover. Gelato leapt into his arms, wrapped his legs around Sorbet's waist and sobbed. The impact left Sorbet spinning them around in the hallway before finally coming to a rest against the hallway railing.

"My heart...my soul," Sorbet crooned as he fell to his knees.

"I'm s-so s-sorry...t-there was nothing...I..I couldn't..." Gelato hiccupped.

"It's okay, my love. I'm here. It's over now," Sorbet continued to cajole his heartbroken lover as tears streamed down his face. At that display, there wasn't a dry eye in the room. Even Risotto found his eyes burned.

"How is any of this possible?" Formaggio breathed as he wiped his face. The question hung over the room as every face watched the impossible image of reunion before them.

"I gave you all a second chance." Everyone turned to see the newbie Giorno standing on the stairs observing calmly. Bucciarati stood to his right and Mista stood behind on his left, gun in hand with a cold expression. Ghiaccio, red-faced, stood in front of Melone protectively but never let go of him.

"You?" Illuso said, still arm and arm with Formaggio.

"I've given all my enemies this opportunity. Even the Boss's confidantes. It comes with an ultimatum." He laid a hand over his chest as he spoke.

"I am the new Don of Passione. You work for me and my men now." He let the words sink in a moment. "If that is a problem, you are free to leave Passione and live your lives unimpeded." Giorno's face hardened as he spoke his next words. "However, should you try to fight us again, I will kill you where you stand. I gave you life and I can rescind that endowment at any time."

The room was silent as Mista cocked his gun.

"There will not be another chance." He looked at every face in the hallway.

"How did you—" Prosciutto shook his head but Giorno cut him off.

"I killed the Boss, Diavolo. I took the stand arrow and stabbed my own stand with it. My Gold Experience Requiem has a power even beyond my own comprehension."

"I won't speak for my men on this. Whether they want to stay and work for the men that killed them is their business," Risotto said as he crossed his arms.

"He's also the man that gave you life again. Remember that," Bucciarati said sternly.

"No! We're done!" Gelato jumped to his feet screaming.

"Shh, baby..." Sorbet grabbed his arm and whispered.

"No, I will never watch that again! I won't have another deranged gangster torture us like that!" He growled. "Nothing is worth that!" Gelato pulled a pocket knife from his jacket and popped it open menacingly. Bucciarati summoned Sticky Fingers but Giorno held up his hand, and the stand faded again.

"I don't torture my own men. I will deal out punishment as I see fit, but I am not cruel. Passione is under new leadership. There will be changes." Giorno looked at the pair. Gelato turned back to Sorbet and continued his argument.

"We can just leave. Live on our own terms, Bet," Gelato begged. Sorbet stood and gently took the knife from his hand.

"Gelly, where are we going to go? If we could have gone anywhere else, I would have left with you when we met," Sorbet soothed. Sorbet retracted the blade and put it in his pocket. Gelato hugged him again, burying his face in Sorbet's chest.

"What is it you would have us do?" Prosciutto asked as he pushed away from Pesci to be able to fully address Giorno.

"For those of you who wish to stay, I will need your services to eradicate the drug trade from Italy." Everyone began to argue at once.

"You what?!" Formaggio walked towards Giorno, and Mista raised his gun. "You can't be serious?! The amount of people and resources that are involved—"

"That could take years to do. As soon as you make that ultimatum, they're going to scatter like roaches," Melone said.

"Exactly. They would just break from Passione and continue under the radar. It can't be done," Illuso interjected.

"That's also easily half of Passione's income! I already get paid shit! I can't afford to take a pay cut! Count me out," Ghiaccio snapped.

"I will be tripling what Esecuzioni makes annually. Bucciarati and I have looked at the numbers and it isn't fair that you are the only squad without supplemental income when you arguably do the dirtiest work," Giorno said as he rested his hand on Mista's gun and lowered it. "We will be allocating some of the funds from the gambling ring to account for this."

Risotto saw another impossible thing that day: Ghiaccio speechless. Giorno turned back to Formaggio, "As to men and resources, I will make a similar ultimatum to those in the market. Cease operation or be forcibly shut down.

He looked to Prosciutto. "You will be the ones to shut them down. Ideally, many of them will concede after we make an example of a few. Regardless, we will clean house. Your squad will be paramount to this operation."

"Do we have to give you an answer now?" Risotto asked, glancing at Gelato and Sorbet. "I imagine there will need to be some discussion of this."

"I need to know that you are not a threat to me. No vengeance missions. No hidden vendettas," Giorno stated simply. Risotto looked around at his team to their bewildered faces. They were waiting for him to speak first.

"We both got what we wanted: the Boss's death. We wash our hands of this feud. All is forgiven. Clean slates; we start over. Is this a deal?" Giorno asked sternly. Risotto stared at the boy. No wonder Bucciarati trusted him so implicitly. His resolve was nothing short of miraculous. He was certain this would be more than the boy could handle, even at Bucciarati's counseling. He wondered, even if his whole squad was on board, would it be enough to achieve this noble dream? He was about to speak when Pesci cut him off.

"I may be the weakest one here, and you guys may tease me for it, but I've learned that no matter what, La Squadra is my family. I will not leave them. If they work for you, then I will too."

"Yeah, Pesci! That's damn right! La Squadra is best squadra!" Formaggio put an arm around Pesci. "We went down fighting together last time, and you're damn right we'll do it again. Right, Lu?" He turned to Illuso who walked over and put an arm around Pesci's waist.

"Let bygones be bygones, yeah? And that payment, Blue, you can't argue with that, now can ya?" Illuso turned to address Ghiaccio. Melone put an arm around Ghiaccio's waist.

"Di molto! Sounds fun, Ghia," Melone hummed as he traced a finger down Ghiaccio's chest. "All those people, means more money."

"As long as I get paid, I'm in," Ghiaccio concluded and draped an arm around Melone's neck and hitched a thumb towards himself as he spoke.

"We will stay as well," Sorbet declared. Gelato looked conflicted but finally relented to his lover.

"Fine," Gelato conceded. Risotto looked to Prosciutto who looked back at him.

"I go wherever you go," Prosciutto said. They shared a look between them, one of equals. Risotto then turned to Giorno and nodded.

"You have our word. We will not retaliate," Risotto said. Giorno nodded.

"Good. I will give you the day to discuss things further but I wish to meet again tomorrow to iron out details. If all of you are indeed remaining in Passione, then we need to discuss the next steps. For now, we will depart. Until tomorrow, ciao." Giorno, Bucciarati and Mista turned to go back downstairs. Risotto's gaze followed them until he heard the front door close behind them.

"Wow, that was heavy," Illuso said. Risotto nodded in agreement. He needed some time to himself to wrap his head around all of this, but first....

"You're all dismissed. Take the day to yourselves, we'll meet with Bucciarati and Giorno tomorrow." As chatter resumed, Risotto tapped Prosciutto on the shoulder. "I need to speak to you in my office."

"Sure," Prosciutto said softly and followed Risotto back downstairs.

(Continued in The Capo Will See You Now)