Before the Ghost: Lucio Salvatore

Three Months Prior

“Lucio you heard your mother, get your ass up for school!” Gianna said loudly from the foot of his bed. As Lucio rolled over and looked at his aunt, he wasn’t surprised at all that his mother had elected to send her sister-in-law to wake him up. Gianna could talk loud without the effort of yelling – was that called projecting your voice or something like that? – and had no problem abusing her nephew in small ways to get him up. Nor did she mind minor abuse of her son. And her brother. And her husband.

No, Gianna didn’t fear much, and that was one thing Lucio loved about her. So, of course, when she told him to get up, he finally did put forth the effort to roll out of bed and get ready for school.

Of course, this part of his day was always a blur from being half asleep still. Even after he showered and went through his entire morning routine, he still wasn’t fully awake until he walked into school. Something about being in school brought out the best in him.

School and Sunday dinners. And these days, when his father let him sit in during his Meetings. Lucio had always felt the need to be considered important, especially in his father's eyes. And since around his fifteenth birthday, when he’d really started to grow up, he had been.

After he showered and brushed his teeth, Lucio walked back to his room, pausing in the hallway to whap his little brother in the back of the head, just for the hell of it. Lucio knew he’d always been important to Joseph, as his older brother. And now, as Joseph learned more and more about being in the Mafia and did not want involvement, Lucio was that much more important.

Yes, these days, Lucio was riding higher than ever before. With an important position in the Family secured, and his training in process, many of his friends and several family members looked up to him and admired him that much more. Something about high expectations inspired Lucio to do better, go higher than anyone thought he would.

“Lucio, eat your breakfast,” his mother demanded when he came downstairs.

“Can’t, already brushed my teeth,” he replied.

“You can do that again, you know,” his uncle, Alfonso, pointed out.

“No, I should get going,” he replied, grabbing his keys and heading for the door.

“Your brother’s still upstairs,” his mother said.

“He can drive, too, and I have to stay after for practice.” Lucio was well aware that he was lucky the swim team at his school had its own pool and after school practice. Most swimmers had to get up long before the crack of dawn for 5 am practice.

“Alright, fine, have a good day,” his mother conceded.

“See you tonight.” Then he stepped out the door and into the garage. He could feel the cold of the December outside already, and, as he found himself doing almost every day, he thanked God he could drive and had a car of his own so that he didn’t have to stand around waiting for a bus.

O

The following day was Saturday. If there was one thing Lucio loved about Saturdays was that the plans for Sunday dinners were always finalized on Saturday. When he was a kid, he’d liked being surprised at who was at his grandmother’s house when they arrived. Now that his house was the hosting house, he liked knowing in advance who would be there so he could know how to act.

His mother was busy, so he hunted down his aunt, no mean feat considering the size of their house. “Gianna,” he said when he found her in his grandmother’s bedroom. “Who’s coming tomorrow?” he asked.

“Mariella and Alessandro,” she replied. Lucio smiled. He liked his uncle Alessandro, he’d gotten his middle name from the man. Granted, they were only related because of his marriage to Lucio’s father’s sister. But even so, he’d been hastily accepted into the family, and the Family, and he was even helping train up Lucio.

“Cool,” Lucio replied. “No one else?”

”Well, me and my family too.”

“Alright,” he said as he turned to leave.

“Lucio,” he heard his grandmother call.

He stuck his head back around the edge of the doorway. “Yeah?”

“You didn’t complain this time.”

“Complain about what?”

“The music. You always complain about my music. Have I finally knocked sense into you?”

“Don’t hold your breath, mama,” Gianna said. “He was distracted, figuring out who he has to impress this week.”

“Try my hardest,” Lucio replied with a smug smile before continuing down the hall, back to his room.

He stopped partway there at Joseph’s room. “What are you up to?” he asked, popping his head in there as well.

“I’m not exactly sure,” Joseph replied honestly. Lucio could gather that he was laying on his bed staring at the ceiling.

“Thinking again?”

“I suppose.”

“You really shouldn’t do that. It’ll get you into trouble.”

“I’m sure,” Joseph replied with a laugh.

Lucio walked in and sat on the chair at the end of Joseph’s bed. “Seriously, why are you so quiet and contemplative lately? Is it the training?”

“I guess.”

Lucio wasn’t stupid. He knew his brother wasn’t going to outrightly admit that he was worried about his only brother getting hurt. That had always been Joseph’s issue with the mafia– seeing the people he loved get hurt. His older brother had always seemed immortal to him growing up. To see him get hurt would go against the belief he’d cultivated throughout childhood.

Lucio was tremendously protective of his little brother. He used to think that when he got older, he’d get sick of the kid, but he never had. And when Joseph had first told him that he didn’t like the whole mafia thing, that he was always worried about someone getting hurt, that he often feared for the life of his own father, well, Lucio had listened. And his protectiveness had only deepened.

“Joseph, perhaps it’s time you and I had a chat,” Lucio said, knowing it was serious, but also not wanting to lose the humor that was nearly always between the two of them. “I know you very well, as I have seen you grow up and watched the way your mind works every day of your life. And don’t think I can’t see that you’re all worried about this.”

Gianna popped her head in suddenly. “Dinner in about ten,” she said.

“Alright,” Lucio said, waiting for Gianna to get a little down the hall before continuing. “I do understand where the fear comes from. Of course I worried that dad is such a target. But when you get in there, see what’s going on... it’s hard to explain, really.” He paused, trying to think of how, exactly to put it into words. “You know me, too, Joseph. You know how I feel about being important to other people. I think that’s what’s really driving them, everyone in the Family. That feeling you get when someone else needs you. You know how much I love that feeling. It’s what makes me unafraid.”

Joseph had been silent, letting his brother keep talking. Finally he spoke up, and narrowed his eyes and asked, “Why are you telling me all this?” He was clearly genuinely uncertain.

Lucio thought for a moment. He wasn’t exactly sure. He’d come in to reassure his younger brother, to tell him there was no reason for him to worry. But all that he’d said really didn’t do that job. “I guess... I guess I don’t want you worrying.”

Joseph looked at him thoughtfully, and he knew his brother was also trying to figure out how his words met that goal.

“I don’t know. I guess now you know I’m not in it for the thrill of being someone others want dead. I’m in it for the thrill of being someone others look up to.”

O

After Sunday dinner, Lucio was seated beside Alessandro in the living room. “You know, Lucio,” he said, “when I was younger, I didn’t really like my name. It was a mouthful, and when I was young, all the other little toddlers would screw it up with their stupid lisps. That always drove me nuts.”

Lucio smiled, imagining a bunch of small children saying “Alessandro” with lisps.

“So when you were born, and I found out you were Lucio Alessandro, I couldn’t help but wonder why. I didn’t understand how your parents could not only stick you with a name like Lucio, but also the name that plagued me throughout my childhood.”

Lucio smiled again, understanding perfectly well where his uncle was coming from. He couldn’t count the number of teachers that had screwed up his name in school.

Alessandro continued. “But now, I realize that name suits you. Maybe it’s because it’s the name I know you by, but nevertheless, it works for you.” He glanced over at his nephew, and he could see that he was trying to figure out why he was being told this particular tale. Alessandro knew. Now that Lucio was stepping up into the mafia, he’d felt the same pride that Agostino had shown. Really, Alessandro just wanted to tell Lucio every story he had about him before he grew up into the man everyone had expected him to be from the moment he was born.

But even as he thought this over, even as he felt the strange urge to slow down the life of his nephew for just a moment, he realized that Lucio wanted to grow up into the man everyone had expected him to be from the moment he was born.

a/n: hope you like it, and the whole idea of this!