The clock ticked on the wall, ever-increasing the tension in Ghiaccio's body. The incessant tick tick tick of the timepiece caused his nerves to pulse each time like his body was too alert, too aware of the coming danger.

"Cat got your tongue?" Mista sneered. The vein in Ghiaccio's neck strained as he clenched his jaw hard. He lept to his feet and bolted for the gunmen but Melone yanked him back down before one foot could hit the ground running.

"He can't talk. I believe we have you to thank for that," Melone said snidely. Ghiaccio just trembled in rage. The things he wanted to say. This cocksucking fuckwad who couldn't hit an elephant with a fucking peashooter, let alone use his damn stand properly to finish a fucking job. He couldn't even take a piss without wetting the front of his pants. Ghiaccio wanted to beat this cocky asshole to a pulp, put him in his place—but he couldn't express any of this, and that only made him angrier.

"Mista, do not antagonize them. We are guests in their house," Giorno said in a warning tone. Mista leaned back against the wall and folded his arms. Giorno returned his gaze to the two surviving hitmen. "I apologize for that." Ghiaccio just shook his head and twirled his wrist in a "just get on with it" gesture.

"Right then. The reason for our visit." Ghiaccio clenched his fist on the couch next to him as Giorno continued. "It came to my attention some days ago that you both had survived. I did not wish to drop in until Ghiaccio got out of the hospital and settled in first."

"Which we appreciate," Melone said pointedly as he glanced at Ghiaccio. He narrowed his eyes in response.

"Yes, well it's your adjustment that I want to discuss," Giorno said and every muscle in Ghiaccio poised in preparation for an attack. "I'll get right to the point. Your continued presence in Passione is of concern to me. Your previous actions indicate that you are a liability. I do not know where your loyalties lie and that makes you a potential threat. And I can't have that."

That last sentence was all Ghiaccio heard.

He grabbed Giorno and shoved him up against the wall and Mista immediately pulled his gun while Melone dove to grab it from his hands. Melone couldn't put up much of a fight being as weak as he was from the poison. One swift knock from Mista and Melone was down, but it gave Ghiaccio the time he needed for Giorno to save his life.

"Mista! STAND DOWN!" Giorno managed to yell against Ghiaccio's arm pressed against his throat.

"All due respect, Giorno, but HELL NO!" Mista cocked the gun. "PUT HIM DOWN NOW, OR I'LL BLOW YOUR FUCKING BRAINS OUT!" Ghiaccio shook with rage, unfazed. He held Giorno's gaze with his blistering one.

"Ghiaccio, please understand my meaning. Perhaps my wording was poor. I will not harm you unless you give me reason to." Giorno managed to say through his smothered windpipe. Ghiaccio continued to glare at him and did not relent.

Bullshit! You came into our house and threatened Melone in front of me. Fucking think again if you think I'm gonna let you leave here alive to follow through with that, Ghiaccio thought as he gritted his teeth.

"Put Giorno down or he dies!" Ghiaccio glanced at Mista to see he had changed tactics and yanked Melone to his feet, gun pressed to his temple. Melone yelped as Mista gripped his arm tighter. Ghiaccio instantly let go of Giorno and summoned White Album to his body. He would not stand to let Melone die again while there was still breath in his lungs.

He would paint the base in Mista's blood.

"NO, STOP! We are not here to fight!" Giorno got to his feet and stood in between the two enraged mafiosos. "Mista, STAND DOWN, that's an order! Lower your weapon, now!" He glared at Mista who finally relented seeing that Giorno was freed. He released Melone and shoved him toward Ghiaccio who caught him. Bloodlust still coursed through Ghiaccio as he activated Gently Weeps. Melone shook in his arms; the tremors had overtaken him during the stress. Ghiaccio summoned shards of ice into the air and pointed them at the two mafia leaders.

No one would ever hurt Melone again.

"Ghiaccio, please! Listen," Giorno said as his breath puffed into the air with the rapidly falling temperature. "Mista was only trying to protect me. We haven't gone about this the way I would have preferred, but I am here to make peace. I don't want any more animosity between us."

"H-he's af-f-fraid for m-m-me. H-he th-thinks you'll k-k-kick us out on the streets," Melone stuttered. "O-o-once you f-f-f-found out w-we were alive." The stress of the situation on his body was making speech difficult for him. Yet another effect of the venom. Melone would never be the same after all the neurological damage he'd sustained from the snakebite. Giorno had destroyed the man Ghiaccio loved forever. Ghiaccio's breathing came in ragged gasps. He'd never been so furious, the need for blood so perverse.

"That's why we came to talk to you. You do not have to leave, but you are free to go if you choose," Giorno explained cautiously. Ghiaccio remained on edge and gripped Melone close to him.

"Hey, Ghia," Melone said and touched his helmet. "I'm okay. P-please, c-c-calm down."

Ghiaccio stood glaring at Giorno. "Please." He closed his eyes and obeyed Melone's voice. White Album's helmet melted away so he could feel Melone's hand on his cheek. With the stroking of Melone's thumb, Ghiaccio's heartrate slowly decreased and the poisonous rage within began to subside. He opened his eyes a bit and saw that smile. All that mattered was Melone's smile and warmth. He was okay. For now. "Let's just l-listen to w-what they have to say, okay?"

He took a deep breath and let it out, then stood up straight helping Melone to his feet. Melone stood close by him with an arm still around his shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck.

"We can put our feud aside, leave the past where it belongs," Giorno reasoned. "As long as you pledge allegiance to me, your place here in Passione is secured."

Allegiance. Fealty. Honor. Respect. Things that Ghiaccio felt for his squad, for Risotto— not this kid before him.

Easy for you to say bitch, you lost nothing in our fight to forgive. We lost everything. You took so many of us.

Ghiaccio replied voicelessly to Giorno.

"What's he saying?" Mista asked Melone. Melone looked at his partner and his face fell.

"The n-names of our squad..." Melone murmured.

"I wanted to address that too. I do regret everything that happened between us. I didn't want to kill any of you, but you left us no choice," Giorno said. This time Melone spoke up, voicing Ghiaccio's retort for him.

"You. Had. A choice." He spoke slowly, regaining control of the stutter. "You could have told us. Exactly what you were up to. We have no love. For the Boss. We hated him. Just as much. He attacked us. He killed us. Treated us like common whores. We'd have gladly fought beside you."

Giorno looked at them, face full of pity. It enraged Ghiaccio. He didn't want this boy's pity, he wanted his team—his family—alive. He wanted for the world to not be so fucking cruel. He wanted his partner to love him unabashedly and live a peaceful existence together. But dreams are just that—dreams, intangible and grand. What is a dream if it is attainable? It is simply a goal and it is a dream no longer. But peace isn't a goal when living in the mafia. It can only conceivably be the unattainable, the cloudy substance of a dream.

Tears pricked his eyes but he refused to cry here. The pain was his and Melone's alone and no one else's to share; it was personal and Ghiaccio would jealousy defend it.

"I didn't know that at the time... didn't know who I could trust. How could I have known that your squad also wanted Diavolo's death?" Giorno asked sadly. Ghiaccio raised a brow at the name.

"The boss; they discovered his identity." Melone continued to play with the curl at the base of his neck and Ghiaccio closed his eyes. He released Gently Weeps and the ice shards dissipated along with the suit about his body.

"I know nothing will make this right, but I can do as much as I can," Giorno stated firmly. "Did anyone on your team have family?"

"Pesci did. And Formaggio was supporting brothers and sisters. I think Prosciutto was sending home toys to his little brother. And... Illuso's family's dead, right?" Melone looked at Ghiaccio for confirmation who nodded solemnly. "Fuck if any of us knew about Risotto."

"Alright. I will be holding funerals for all of your Squadra. They will be honored. And I will make sure all their families are taken care of as well." Melone gasped. Ghiaccio couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Do you two have family?" Giorno asked.

Ghiaccio shook his head.

"Just each other," Melone said quietly and looked at Ghiaccio who lowered his head and glanced at his partner over his glasses. His heart sped up. Melone had never actually said that out loud before, but he certainly felt it. Hearing it made Ghiaccio more confident that everything would be okay. Melone thought he was family. He wouldn't leave Ghiaccio now.

"If you want out, I'll give it to you. I'll buy you each a place so you can start over."

"That's not necessary, we can room together. Right, Ghia?" He looked a bit concerned as he looked at Ghiaccio, almost nervous. Ghiaccio shook his head quickly. Of course, he'd live with Melone. No questions asked.

"Alright then. Does that mean you're accepting my offer?" Giorno inquired.

Melone looked at Ghiaccio who looked back.

"Can we have a day to discuss it?" Melone asked.

"Sure. I know it's a lot to take in," Giorno said. Ghiaccio turned and ran to the kitchen surprising Melone. He snatched his journal off the counter and wrote in it as he walked back in. He held it up for Giorno to read. Melone walked around to read it too.

Why are you doing this? Why not just kill us if you don't trust us?

"Because I want peace. I don't want to kill. Unless I have to. Sometimes you have to take out key players to make peace," Giorno explained. "It's my dream to make Italy better. Taking control of the mafia is only the first step."

Dreams are fucking useless, Ghiaccio wrote. Just another way the world disappoints.

"I had a dream of becoming part of this gang and to become its leader. To wipe out all drugs." Giorno smiled. "And I'm doing it."

Do whatever you want as long as you leave me and Melone alone. We don't want shit from you or anyone else. We want fucking peace too.

Giorno looked at Melone then back to Ghiaccio. "Then you want out?"

Ghiaccio hesitated. He still didn't know what they would do without the gang. He had Melone but realistically how would they live without the stability of Passione? Neither of them had any real work experience being so young when they joined. Ghiaccio had been sixteen when he'd undergone the Trial by Arrow. He'd known Melone ever since his partner joined almost three years ago. That felt like a lifetime away now. A lot can happen in three years.

Ghiaccio had changed a lot in that time. He'd learned to trust again.

"We need to talk about it first," Melone answered for him.

Giorno nodded. "So be it. We will leave you to it then. Let's go, Mista." He gestured to the gunmen and both men walked toward the door. Ghiaccio watched as Melone followed them to the door and locked it behind them.

He stood staring at the door for several minutes. Ghiaccio walked over to him and he looked up.

"You know, I still have a dream." Melone looked away. "I want to hope it's not useless. That maybe... it could happen. One day."

Ghiaccio tapped him on the shoulder and held up his notepad. What is it?

Melone read the words then looked at him. "Come on, let's go eat something."