Duty or Loyalty - Prologue Part 2
Title: Duty or Loyalty - Prologue Part 2
Author: silmanumenel
Disclaimer: Nothing in here belongs to me, all is property of CBS. I’m also not making any money with this, I don't think anybody would pay me.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: None here, will eventually be Danny/Steve
Warnings: None as far as I can tell.
Word Count: 1.790
Summary: Danny's life is not what you would call normal, and growing up is not exactly easy when half of your family belongs to the mafia. Or: The AU in which Danny is still Danny, but most of his family is on the other side of the law.
In this part: Danny visits his uncle and has to make a difficult decision.
Notes: I did some research on the American Mafia for this part, I hope it turned out okay.
Prologue Part 1
Danny is invited to the house on the day after his eighteenth birthday, and he has to admit that he is a bit apprehensive. He and his uncle had a huge row a few months back when Danny made it absolutely clear that he would get his degree in Criminal Justice from Rutgers and would go to the police academy afterwards, and things have been a bit strained since then. Not as bad as they could have been, and for a moment Danny is selfishly glad that he is indeed Uncle Salvatore’s favorite nephew, but he still has no idea what his uncle might want, and that is making him slightly nervous.
He is shown into the library, a room he has many fond memories of because it always meant coziness and picture books and later his great-grandfather’s ebony chess set, and is welcomed by his uncle with an embrace and a kiss on each of his cheeks.
“Danny! Come, sit down. I have something important to discuss with you.”
Danny sinks into one of the armchairs and watches in silence as his uncle fixes two tumblers with ice cubes and what is most likely scotch, realizing that he is coiled tight as a spring and consciously trying to relax his muscles. He averts his gaze, looking around at all the familiar things, the pictures on the bookcase, his aunt’s cello in the corner and the Picasso on the wall - that he’s not all that sure anymore is really a replica - and tells himself firmly that nothing bad is going to happen.
Uncle Salvatore hands him one of the tumblers and then sits down in the chair opposite Danny’s, regarding him in silence for a long minute in which Danny can barely suppress his fidgeting. It’s almost a relief when his uncle finally starts talking.
“So, Danny, I do realize that you are dead set on becoming a… a law enforcement officer, and I have decided that I will not attempt to change your mind again. You are my nephew, and if this is what makes you happy, then so be it.”
Danny heaves a sigh of relief and smiles.
“Thanks, Uncle Salvo! I…”
But his uncle holds up a hand to interrupt him.
“Wait, I am not finished. I know you are not a part of the business and will never be, given your own statements and now your chosen career path, but you are still aware of some pertinent details which is why I want you to do something. I want you to swear a variant of the Omertà, to swear that you will keep the family’s secrets and not talk about us to the authorities.”
Danny pales and closes his eyes for a moment. He should’ve seen this coming, should’ve known that something like this would happen. And there it is again, the feeling of almost being torn in two. He knows what his duties as a cop would be because even if he’s not aware of all the intricacies concerning his uncle’s dealings, the fact that he does have some knowledge of the family’s involvement in the… the mafia - and Danny is determinedly refusing to think about Uncle Salvatore’s position in the hierarchy because that way lies madness - is enough and would require him to disclose it. Danny is aware that he will be questioned about his connections once he applies to the police academy, but has pushed the thought away because he has no clue what he is going to say then. If he swears this oath… Will he be able to lie? Sit there and say he knows nothing about what his uncle does, has never heard anyone mention the mafia?
But then… it’s family. Even his mom, who distanced herself from most of her relatives and abhors what her brother does, still says that family is everything, that family sticks together, no matter what. He once again looks around the room, avoiding his uncle’s eyes for the moment, and has to admit that he can’t imagine not coming back here, can’t imagine not finding Aunt Rosalia in the kitchen, trying to ply him with food, can’t imagine…
Danny is flung out of his musings when the door flies open and a small whirlwind with brown pigtails races into the room and over to his armchair, climbing into his lap and throwing her arms around his neck. It’s all he can do to put his tumbler down before he spills the scotch everywhere.
“Danny! Mom just told me you were here! I’m so sorry we couldn’t come for your birthday yesterday! How long can you stay? You don’t come often enough!”
He holds his little cousin close, and it’s suddenly clear to him that there’s not really a choice. Aletta is only eleven, and he could never do anything to hurt her. So he kisses her forehead, then jostles her playfully and puts her on her feet again.
“I’m sure I’ll be here for some time, and we can play later, I promise. But I need to talk to Uncle Salvo some more, okay?”
A smile spreads over her face, and she hugs him again, brimming with barely contained enthusiasm.
“Yeah, okay. I got a new Barbie trailer that I have to show you! It’s got horses and a little kitchen that folds out from the side and a sunblind that you can roll up! It’s so cool, and you can be Ken and I’ll be Cowgirl Barbie and we’ll go riding in the desert and maybe we’ll find a treasure!”
Danny nods along, wondering how he got to be the Barbie-playing expert without him noticing, and then glances up just to see the indulgent look on his uncle’s face. No, there is no choice.
“I am sure Danny will be happy to go treasure hunting with you, Sweetheart,” his uncle says, affection coloring his voice, “but later. We still have some things to discuss, so you have to wait a bit longer, alright?”
Aletta nods her head vigorously, her pigtails bobbing up and down, and runs over to her father to kiss his cheek before bouncing out of the room again, closing the door with a bang.
Danny waits until her footsteps have receded down the corridor, then steels himself and looks at his uncle, knowing that there’s no going back once he says the words.
“Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll swear your oath. But, and I want you to listen very carefully to this, I never ever want to hear anything about what’s going on again, not even a peep. I don’t want to hear about Mario’s ventures into gambling, I don’t want to hear about Gina’s skills in the “nightclub” business - and don’t think I don’t know that’s a euphemism! - and I certainly don’t want to hear about Tony’s extortion schemes! Nothing, okay? And I want you to make this clear to the others as well. When I come visit we can talk about the weather, or Aletta’s progress in school, or Nicci’s on again off again boyfriends or whatever, but not about anything that even hints at being illegal! I need at least that much plausible deniability, and if you can’t promise me that, I’m outta here.”
By the end of his speech Danny is breathing hard and trembling slightly because you normally don’t talk like that to Salvatore Macaluso, and it’s taken even him, who’s normally not shy with his words, quite a bit of courage, but he feels the better for it. His uncle’s blank face is not all that reassuring though, and for a moment Danny wonders if he’s blown everything now before the other man smiles, gets up and claps him on the shoulder.
“I can appreciate your frankness, Danny, and I am willing to agree to your demands. I promise you that you will not learn anything about our undertakings again. And now…”
He steps over to the desk and picks up a shiny, silver knife as well as a little picture, handing both to Danny and regarding him expectantly.
“You know what to do. Swear that you will be loyal to your family, that you will not disclose our secrets, that you will not talk about anything you have learned up until now to anyone who is not a family member, and that even when you become a cop you will honor the code of silence.”
Danny looks at the picture of the saint, thinking it ironically appropriate that his uncle chose St. Michael, patron of the police, and then at the knife in his hand, seeing his own blue eyes reflected back at him in the steel, scared, conflicted, but yet determined. He’s fully aware of what he’s doing, and he knows that once he gives this promise, swears this oath, it’s final. He could never even imagine breaking it.
La famiglia è tutto. Family is everything after all.
He lets the knife hover over his left palm for a second, then slices down decisively, drawing a straight line across his hand. It hurts surprisingly little, just stings somewhat, and when the blood starts welling up, he lets it drip onto the picture of St. Michael, watching the saint being covered in red in a strange state of detached fascination.
As per tradition, he then hands it to his uncle and recites the oath the other laid down for him while the picture is being burnt in the fireplace.
Once he is finished his uncle passes a handkerchief to him which he wraps around his hand, and just like that the tension in the room dissolves, like smoke up the chimney. Uncle Salvatore comes up to stand behind him, putting his hands on Danny’s shoulders, and Danny lets them ground him, lets them draw him back to the here and now. They don’t talk, there’s really nothing more to say, and after a few more silent minutes Danny gets up to leave the room, sharing another look with his uncle, wordlessly telling him that he’s alright.
And he is. Danny knows very well which path he has set himself on, but as he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor in Aletta’s room, playing with the Barbie trailer and braiding the mane of Barbie’s horse with shiny ribbons and buckles, he somehow can’t see it as the bad thing he probably should. For this, for her, it’s worth it.
His mom of course notices the make-shift bandage immediately once he returns home and knows exactly what it means. Her eyes widen and fill with tears, but she doesn’t say a word, just takes him into her arms and holds him tight. And Danny is more grateful and happy than he can say that she understands.
TBC
Prologue Part 3
Author: silmanumenel
Disclaimer: Nothing in here belongs to me, all is property of CBS. I’m also not making any money with this, I don't think anybody would pay me.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: None here, will eventually be Danny/Steve
Warnings: None as far as I can tell.
Word Count: 1.790
Summary: Danny's life is not what you would call normal, and growing up is not exactly easy when half of your family belongs to the mafia. Or: The AU in which Danny is still Danny, but most of his family is on the other side of the law.
In this part: Danny visits his uncle and has to make a difficult decision.
Notes: I did some research on the American Mafia for this part, I hope it turned out okay.
Prologue Part 1
Danny is invited to the house on the day after his eighteenth birthday, and he has to admit that he is a bit apprehensive. He and his uncle had a huge row a few months back when Danny made it absolutely clear that he would get his degree in Criminal Justice from Rutgers and would go to the police academy afterwards, and things have been a bit strained since then. Not as bad as they could have been, and for a moment Danny is selfishly glad that he is indeed Uncle Salvatore’s favorite nephew, but he still has no idea what his uncle might want, and that is making him slightly nervous.
He is shown into the library, a room he has many fond memories of because it always meant coziness and picture books and later his great-grandfather’s ebony chess set, and is welcomed by his uncle with an embrace and a kiss on each of his cheeks.
“Danny! Come, sit down. I have something important to discuss with you.”
Danny sinks into one of the armchairs and watches in silence as his uncle fixes two tumblers with ice cubes and what is most likely scotch, realizing that he is coiled tight as a spring and consciously trying to relax his muscles. He averts his gaze, looking around at all the familiar things, the pictures on the bookcase, his aunt’s cello in the corner and the Picasso on the wall - that he’s not all that sure anymore is really a replica - and tells himself firmly that nothing bad is going to happen.
Uncle Salvatore hands him one of the tumblers and then sits down in the chair opposite Danny’s, regarding him in silence for a long minute in which Danny can barely suppress his fidgeting. It’s almost a relief when his uncle finally starts talking.
“So, Danny, I do realize that you are dead set on becoming a… a law enforcement officer, and I have decided that I will not attempt to change your mind again. You are my nephew, and if this is what makes you happy, then so be it.”
Danny heaves a sigh of relief and smiles.
“Thanks, Uncle Salvo! I…”
But his uncle holds up a hand to interrupt him.
“Wait, I am not finished. I know you are not a part of the business and will never be, given your own statements and now your chosen career path, but you are still aware of some pertinent details which is why I want you to do something. I want you to swear a variant of the Omertà, to swear that you will keep the family’s secrets and not talk about us to the authorities.”
Danny pales and closes his eyes for a moment. He should’ve seen this coming, should’ve known that something like this would happen. And there it is again, the feeling of almost being torn in two. He knows what his duties as a cop would be because even if he’s not aware of all the intricacies concerning his uncle’s dealings, the fact that he does have some knowledge of the family’s involvement in the… the mafia - and Danny is determinedly refusing to think about Uncle Salvatore’s position in the hierarchy because that way lies madness - is enough and would require him to disclose it. Danny is aware that he will be questioned about his connections once he applies to the police academy, but has pushed the thought away because he has no clue what he is going to say then. If he swears this oath… Will he be able to lie? Sit there and say he knows nothing about what his uncle does, has never heard anyone mention the mafia?
But then… it’s family. Even his mom, who distanced herself from most of her relatives and abhors what her brother does, still says that family is everything, that family sticks together, no matter what. He once again looks around the room, avoiding his uncle’s eyes for the moment, and has to admit that he can’t imagine not coming back here, can’t imagine not finding Aunt Rosalia in the kitchen, trying to ply him with food, can’t imagine…
Danny is flung out of his musings when the door flies open and a small whirlwind with brown pigtails races into the room and over to his armchair, climbing into his lap and throwing her arms around his neck. It’s all he can do to put his tumbler down before he spills the scotch everywhere.
“Danny! Mom just told me you were here! I’m so sorry we couldn’t come for your birthday yesterday! How long can you stay? You don’t come often enough!”
He holds his little cousin close, and it’s suddenly clear to him that there’s not really a choice. Aletta is only eleven, and he could never do anything to hurt her. So he kisses her forehead, then jostles her playfully and puts her on her feet again.
“I’m sure I’ll be here for some time, and we can play later, I promise. But I need to talk to Uncle Salvo some more, okay?”
A smile spreads over her face, and she hugs him again, brimming with barely contained enthusiasm.
“Yeah, okay. I got a new Barbie trailer that I have to show you! It’s got horses and a little kitchen that folds out from the side and a sunblind that you can roll up! It’s so cool, and you can be Ken and I’ll be Cowgirl Barbie and we’ll go riding in the desert and maybe we’ll find a treasure!”
Danny nods along, wondering how he got to be the Barbie-playing expert without him noticing, and then glances up just to see the indulgent look on his uncle’s face. No, there is no choice.
“I am sure Danny will be happy to go treasure hunting with you, Sweetheart,” his uncle says, affection coloring his voice, “but later. We still have some things to discuss, so you have to wait a bit longer, alright?”
Aletta nods her head vigorously, her pigtails bobbing up and down, and runs over to her father to kiss his cheek before bouncing out of the room again, closing the door with a bang.
Danny waits until her footsteps have receded down the corridor, then steels himself and looks at his uncle, knowing that there’s no going back once he says the words.
“Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll swear your oath. But, and I want you to listen very carefully to this, I never ever want to hear anything about what’s going on again, not even a peep. I don’t want to hear about Mario’s ventures into gambling, I don’t want to hear about Gina’s skills in the “nightclub” business - and don’t think I don’t know that’s a euphemism! - and I certainly don’t want to hear about Tony’s extortion schemes! Nothing, okay? And I want you to make this clear to the others as well. When I come visit we can talk about the weather, or Aletta’s progress in school, or Nicci’s on again off again boyfriends or whatever, but not about anything that even hints at being illegal! I need at least that much plausible deniability, and if you can’t promise me that, I’m outta here.”
By the end of his speech Danny is breathing hard and trembling slightly because you normally don’t talk like that to Salvatore Macaluso, and it’s taken even him, who’s normally not shy with his words, quite a bit of courage, but he feels the better for it. His uncle’s blank face is not all that reassuring though, and for a moment Danny wonders if he’s blown everything now before the other man smiles, gets up and claps him on the shoulder.
“I can appreciate your frankness, Danny, and I am willing to agree to your demands. I promise you that you will not learn anything about our undertakings again. And now…”
He steps over to the desk and picks up a shiny, silver knife as well as a little picture, handing both to Danny and regarding him expectantly.
“You know what to do. Swear that you will be loyal to your family, that you will not disclose our secrets, that you will not talk about anything you have learned up until now to anyone who is not a family member, and that even when you become a cop you will honor the code of silence.”
Danny looks at the picture of the saint, thinking it ironically appropriate that his uncle chose St. Michael, patron of the police, and then at the knife in his hand, seeing his own blue eyes reflected back at him in the steel, scared, conflicted, but yet determined. He’s fully aware of what he’s doing, and he knows that once he gives this promise, swears this oath, it’s final. He could never even imagine breaking it.
La famiglia è tutto. Family is everything after all.
He lets the knife hover over his left palm for a second, then slices down decisively, drawing a straight line across his hand. It hurts surprisingly little, just stings somewhat, and when the blood starts welling up, he lets it drip onto the picture of St. Michael, watching the saint being covered in red in a strange state of detached fascination.
As per tradition, he then hands it to his uncle and recites the oath the other laid down for him while the picture is being burnt in the fireplace.
Once he is finished his uncle passes a handkerchief to him which he wraps around his hand, and just like that the tension in the room dissolves, like smoke up the chimney. Uncle Salvatore comes up to stand behind him, putting his hands on Danny’s shoulders, and Danny lets them ground him, lets them draw him back to the here and now. They don’t talk, there’s really nothing more to say, and after a few more silent minutes Danny gets up to leave the room, sharing another look with his uncle, wordlessly telling him that he’s alright.
And he is. Danny knows very well which path he has set himself on, but as he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor in Aletta’s room, playing with the Barbie trailer and braiding the mane of Barbie’s horse with shiny ribbons and buckles, he somehow can’t see it as the bad thing he probably should. For this, for her, it’s worth it.
His mom of course notices the make-shift bandage immediately once he returns home and knows exactly what it means. Her eyes widen and fill with tears, but she doesn’t say a word, just takes him into her arms and holds him tight. And Danny is more grateful and happy than he can say that she understands.
TBC
Prologue Part 3