Title: CA Driving in NY
Character or Pairing: Gino Corlioni, Vito Corlioni, Teresa Corlioni, Nicoletta Corlioni, Leo Corlioni, Johnny Corlioni, and David Corlioni.
Rating: R for language.
Warnings: Language and physical conflict. Also, mention of drug use.
Claimer: All characters contained herein are original. Any similarity to any persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Prompt and Community: 092. Speed; 100_situations
Word Count: 1,945
Beta(s): None, since it’s kinda for the one who’s awake.
Author's Note: I wrote this at work! Hand-wrote, and in tiny script so no one accidentally read it. Vito and Gino are 18, Nicoletta and Leo are 27, David is 31, Teresa is 33, and Johnny is 37.
“Faster, man, faster!” Vito shouts as the sirens wail behind them. He takes another long puff, blowing out the smoke in rings. Gino stomps on the gas, laughing.
“Gonna fucking lose them,” he says gleefully.
From the back, Teresa says, “Aren’t you supposed to pull over when there are sirens?”
Vito and Gino glance at each other. Shit. Forgot she was even there.
Teresa stands off to the side as Vito and Gino are cuffed.
“Look, our sister,” Gino tries again. “Just call someone first, will you?”
“Yeah,” Vito chimes in. “She’s not like us. She’s…challenged.”
“That’s what Mama says.” Teresa watches with a vague interest. “Am I under arrest, too?”
“No,” Gino says, glaring at the officers. “You didn’t do anything. Not that we did,” he adds hastily. “But you’ve never done anything wrong.”
“Either we leave her here, or we call someone from the station,” the taller cop informs them.
Vito rolls his eyes skyward. “Better bring her, then.”
“What’s your name, honey?” the cop asks Teresa. Gino can’t help but listen in.
“Teresa.” Teresa gives the woman a brilliant smile. “Teresa Corlioni.”
Gino’s quick enough to catch the woman’s change in expression, even if Teresa isn’t. Kind of refreshing to see genuine fear because of the name. He’s not stupid enough to think it has anything to do with him and Vito, though. More like David, Johnny, and the old man. “Teresa Corlioni,” the cop repeats. “I think I know your name. What do you do for a living?”
“I’m an artist,” Teresa says, smile growing ever brighter.
“And a damn good one,” Vito calls over.
The woman cop—dyke, Gino decides for no reason—gives Vito a disdainful look. “Do you know that scum, Teresa?”
Teresa’s smile fades slightly. “He’s my brother. They both are.”
The dyke does a double-take. “Little young to be your brothers, aren’t they?”
Teresa shrugs. “They’re not youngest. That’s Maria. She’s eight.” She sighs, glancing around. “Can we call David now?”
Gino figures he goes about as pale as Vito does at the thought. “He’s out of town, remember, Teresa?” he calls.
Teresa shrugs. “Then Johnny?”
At least they wouldn’t be dead in two seconds, but…. “So is he, princess. They’re in Sicily, remember?”
“Oh yeah.” Teresa chews on her lip, clearly thinking. Mrs. Corlioni and Pop are both out of the country too, so… “Nic?” she asks.
Gino and Vito curse in unison under their breaths. Nicoletta might like them, but she’ll still kill them for getting Teresa involved in this. If Gino bothers to think about this, she’s justified. “Yeah,” Vito says after a moment. “They can call Nic.”
Nicoletta and Leo arrive at the same time. If Gino didn’t know better, he’d think they took the same car, but Nicoletta would kill Leo if they were in the same car with no buffer. Both older siblings stand out in the crowd of the police station, for completely different reasons—Leo for his slick thousand-dollar suit and clear sense of disdain and superiority, and Nicoletta for her cool blonde beauty and absolute anger. Vito and Gino both shrink back in the cell, where they’ve been since they called Leo.
“Shit, man,” Vito mutters. “Maybe we should’ve just called Romeo.”
Gino rolls his eyes. “Then he would’ve called Nic and Lea.”
“Oh yeah.” Vito shakes his head. “She won’t actually try to kill us in front of a roomful of cops.”
“Probably not.” Gino lacks his half-brother’s confidence.
Nicoletta stops at a desk to talk to an overweight, balding cop. She pitches her voice too low for them to hear and probably honey-sweet, and with the way she’s smiling and leaning forward, it’s not hard to work out what she’s doing.
“We are so fucked.”
“With Teresa in the car!” Nicoletta bellows at them. The fat cop put them all in a room, for which Gino will gladly kill him. “The fuck were ya thinking? How fucking stupid can you fucking get?” She turns to Leo, practically snarling, “Fuck are they charged with?”
Leo frowns at her. “Hey, why are you snapping at me? I didn’t do anything.”
Nicoletta’s glare hardens, and she clenches a fist. “Leo, I swear…”
Leo rolls his eyes. “Fine. You geniuses were smoking pot while Teresa was in the car?”
“Not me,” Gino says quickly, and Vito kicks at him. “Fuck, man!”
“Fucking traitor,” Vito grumbles.
“They’re charging you both with that, plus reckless driving, running a red light, and oh yeah, possession of a stolen vehicle.” Leo gives them a look. “Your own cars weren’t good enough?”
“We thought it was one of Johnny’s,” Vito protests. “Those don’t count.”
“They do when the guy who runs his parking lot notices the car missing,” Nicoletta says flatly, “and knows he’s out of town.”
“That one’s easy,” Leo tells them. “It’s our brother’s, not some stranger’s. And it’s not David’s.”
“Hey, we’re not fucking stupid,” Vito says quickly.
Nicoletta snorts before Vito can go on. “Says the one who was fucking toking when Teresa was in the car.” She switches to rapid Italian, the kind you have to be fluent to follow. Fuck, Gino has a hard time keeping up. “I want to know. What the fuck were you thinking? Fucking steal one of Johnny’s fucking cars, then fucking endanger Teresa? You fucking dumbasses, we should fucking leave you here to fucking find some fucking half-assed attorney who doesn’t have a fucking clue.”
“Don’t forget David,” Leo interjects.
“I’m not fucking forgetting fucking David.” Nicoletta glowers at the younger brothers. “These fucking numbskulls apparently did. The fuck you think he’s going to do when he gets back and finds out you put Teresa in danger, huh? Assuming you fucking survive Johnny. And me, when you’re fucking out.”
“As your lawyer,” Leo says, “I recommend against beating them in a police station.”
Nicoletta looks like she wants to hit him, but goes on instead. “Do you have any idea how bad this is going to make me look to Pop? He leaves, and you two fuck up massively?”
“All about you,” Vito mutters.
This time, Gino kicks him, and Nicoletta has to physically stop herself from hitting him. “No,” she snarls, “not ‘all about me’. You could have killed Teresa, you fuckers. At least gotten her hurt. You want to be the ones telling her ma? Huh?”
Gino cringes at the idea. No matter what David and Johnny do to them first, Mrs. Corlioni will still beat the hell out of them.
“And then there’s Pop,” Nicoletta rages on. “Who do you think would pay for getting Martina’s daughter hurt? I’ll give you a fucking clue. Not me or Leo. Fucking Christ, boys, how fucking stupid are you?” She runs a hand over her face. “Leo, you deal with these fucking idiots. I’m taking care of Teresa.” She points at Vito and Gino. “You fucking better be at the office before I am tomorrow, or I’ll fucking castrate you.” She stalks out of the room before they can answer.
Vito gulps deeply once she’s gone. “What’s she going to do if we’re still in jail?”
“Not an issue,” Leo says confidently. “Three hours at the most, and you can go home to your mothers before facing the she-demon in the morning. I’d wear armor.”
Vito and Gino know their brothers are back, and not just because they’ve been dreading it. Johnny greets the building with a bellowed, “Miss us, fuckers?” and David calls for Angela. Nicoletta interrupts both by leaning over the second-floor railing.
“Johnny, David, need to talk to ya. My office.” She looks over at Gino, frozen just outside the door of the office he shares with Vito. “Don’t even fucking think about fucking going anywhere.”
Too late. The trouble is, Gino can’t think of anywhere that Johnny and David won’t find them. He slinks into the office and considers locking the door, but Johnny has a key and David can just kick or shoulder the door in. “We’re fucked,” he tells Vito.
“We already knew that.” Vito doesn’t look up from his skin mag.
“In the way that they’re home and talking to Nic,” Gino clarifies.
They sit in tense silence until there’s a bull roar from the direction of Nicoletta’s office. Then they both scramble for the window, shoving each other out of the way. “Fuck, you were driving!”
“Yeah, well, you were smoking pot!”
The door bursts inward, and then they’re both pulled through the air at the same time. Either David’s gotten even bigger, or Johnny’s more pissed than they bargained on.
“Ya fuckin’ put Teresa at risk!” someone snarls, and yeah, Johnny’s pissed, because even at his drunkest, David doesn’t talk like that.
Speaking of David, Gino cringes away from the fist looping through the air and does his best to protect his groin and face. “We’re sorry!” he can hear Vito yelp from across the room.
“Teresa, you little shits,” David snarls, and hits Gino again. “Give me one fucking reason not to break your fucking necks.”
He can do it. They’ve seen him break a man’s neck with apparently no effort. “We’re your brothers?” Vito tries. Judging by the sound Vito makes, Johnny doesn’t think that’s a very good reason. Gino casts about for a better one, not that it’s easy to do when the largest of his brothers is beating him.
“We’re her brothers,” he gasps out after a particularly vicious blow to his stomach. “She cares about us.”
“Fucker’s got a point, David,” Johnny says after a moment. “Don’ wanna hafta explain them vanishin’ ta her.”
David growls and shakes Gino so hard his head hits the wall. “If you ever do anything to hurt her again,” he hisses, “you won’t be able to move for a month.”
“Think they got it, David. C'mon.”
“Yeah,” Vito gasps. “Yeah, we got it.”
Johnny waits for David to leave before turning back to Vito and Gino. “Either a ya ever touches one a my cars without askin’ again, I’ll do the same as Pop would.” He means it, that’s clear, and Gino nods shakily.
“Got it. No touching your cars.” One whipping by Pop is enough. He really doesn’t need Johnny’s version. He suspects it would be much worse.
Vito has the balls and lack of brains to ask, “What would Pop do?”
“Beat the shit outta ya with his belt,” Johnny says. “Which a ya dumbasses thought breakin’ into my fuckin’ apartment ta steal my goddamn car would be a good idea?”
Silence. Vito and Gino just stare at each other.
“Like I gotta ask,” Johnny mutters. He steps closer to Vito and backhands him. “Not a good fuckin’ idea, am I fuckin’ clear?”
Vito yelps and nods, cringing away from Johnny.
“An’ I ever find out either a ya used anythin’ besides booze or tobacco again, I’m fuckin’ callin’ your mothers.” Johnny gives them amazingly stern looks. “They can deal with beatin’ the hell outta ya. An’ then I will.”
“You’re not Pop,” Vito sulks, and Johnny backhands him again.
“Old enough ta be. Ya fuckin’ listen ta me, or ya not only don’ have jobs an’ have me beat the shit outta ya, ya also don’ have a lawyer ta get ya outta all the shit ya get into. Am I fuckin’ clear?”
“Yeah,” Gino says before Vito can make it worse again. “Yeah, you’re clear.”
“Clear,” Vito mutters. “Fuck, I think you knocked out a tooth.”
“Ya expect fuckin’ sympathy?” Johnny snorts. “Stay the fuck away from David until he sees Teresa. An ya ever pull that shit again, I’ll fuckin’ let him kill ya.”