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schemmentis · 2 months

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La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 2

Co-Written w/ @janeyseymour

Part 1

Summary: You tell Melissa what's going on, and the investigation continues...

WC: 2k

Irish Translations: Mo ghrá - My love, A storin - My little treasure

Italian-American/Italian Translations: Figlio di puttana - son of a bitch, mamaluke - idiot/fool, Ti voglio ben’assai - I love you so much

“Well,” Danek sighs. “She said the magic words.”

You let out a rather long yawn, this unplanned late night catching up to you. “Can I go home now? God... my wife is going to kill me.”

“You’re back here at nine sharp, lawyers present,” Shaw tells you. “Or we will find you, and we will arrest you.”

You huff. “Can we do ten?” you try to negotiate. “If I’m going to stay married, I know I’m going to have to take my girls to school today, and they start at nine.”

“Ten o’clock,” Shaw tells you. “But know that if you aren’t her-”

“I know,” you roll your eyes. “You will find me, and you will arrest me.”

You stand and go to leave, only to realize that your car is sitting safely in your driveway at home. It’s far too late for you to walk home alone safely now too. “Can you take me home?”

You’re escorted back to your house, grumbling about how if you were hiding something like they think you are, why on Earth would you let them know where you live. You only hope these two believe you. The entire ride home, you feel the binder dig into your back, and you know when you go to change you’ll have various marks from the edges of the sharp book.

Unlocking your door, you sigh heavily. Kicking off your shoes and relocking the door in the dark, you finally shrug off your blazer and pull the binder from between your belt. You stretch just slightly before making your way into the bedroom.

The sight before you makes your heart swell. Both of your little ones are curled into your wife’s sides as she sleeps just slightly propped up, clearly having fallen asleep waiting for you and trying to work out her own business. Her glasses are half on her face, her phone is resting on her chest, and both hands are laying over your twins’ chests.

You get ready for bed as quietly as possible and hide the ledger for your illegal business in the safe under your bed before sliding in and attempting to lay Melissa down without waking her. Of course though, that doesn’t work.

“Y/N?” your wife lets out sleepily as she blearily opens her eyes. They take a few seconds to adjust and focus on you. She glances at the clock. “It’s three am, and you’re just getting in?”

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” you sigh softly as you curl up around Rosie. “Get some sleep, I’ll wake up with the girls tomorrow to make it up to you for not being here last night.”

“Are you okay?” Melissa asks you in a whisper.

You prop yourself up on your elbows to kiss her gently. “I don’t know, but you three will be.”

“What does that mean? Where were you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you sigh as you lay back down and close your eyes.

You feel a gentle hand reach for your own in the darkness. It squeezes, almost too tight for just a moment before it relents to a soft grasp. You take a deep breath, though you don’t open your eyes. You know it’s Melissa’s silent way of reinforcing her presence, as well as her combination of frustration and worry.

“You don’t just get to come home at three am after leaving me high and dry for mom duty.” Your wife’s voice hits your ears softly in the dark. You’re certain it’s only because your girls are asleep next to you both that she doesn’t sound as pissed as you expected. “After having Tony tell me to take my ziti off the menu, might I add. Then he didn't even tell me where you were. I was worried.”

“I was down at the station,” you reveal with a heavy breath. “Now seriously, Mo ghrá, get some sleep, and we can talk about this tomorrow.”

Your wife huffs, not thrilled to not be clued in with whatever is taking place, but she does relent. An arm of hers wraps around Cat as she lets her own eyes flutter shut.

That night, you dream of what might come out of this. You dream of ways for you to possibly escape the sticky situation that you’ve found yourself in. But you also have nightmares of the many (and more probable) ways that this could all pan out: Melissa being hurt, your girls getting hurt, being taken away from the twins, being murdered- just like Bobby.

You don’t know how long it took you to fall asleep. Properly asleep, that deep and restorative sleep. You know when you wake up though. Your eyes pop open, startled awake by the slap of a tiny palm to your face. Half a palm and little fingers blocking your left eye and the other half pressed to your upper cheek.

“Mam.” One tiny voice doing her best to whisper calls for you. You blink when the little hand pulls away to see Cat, half sprawled across your wife and her sister to reach you. “Mam!” Her decent attempt at a whisper rises with her excitement to see you awake.

You softly shush her. “I’m happy to see you too, A storin, but we don’t want to wake up Mommy.” You quietly explain as you untangle yourself from your little family taking up all of your bed.

You pick up Cat first since she’s awake, kissing her small cheek before you maneuver to pick up her sister. You carry both your girls to the kitchen, setting them to their chairs at the table. “Mam is going to make breakfast and then take you to school, okay? We’re going to use our inside voices and let Mommy get some extra rest.”

Thankfully, they listen to you. Seemingly, they’re content so long as you’re in sight and softly speaking with them or humming the songs you know they like. You only have a small snafu when Cat insists she has to wear the shoes you’d just gotten onto Rosie’s feet. They are her shoes and not her sister’s, she informs you. You placate her by proffering an exact matching pair that would have been put on her feet next anyway. She still grumbles a bit about her sister wearing her shoes, though.

You’re just about to get them out the door when Melissa appears, dressed aside from her shoes. She kisses each of your girls’ heads when they greet her excitedly as she leans down to grab the pair she means to put on.

“I told you I’d take them in.” You softly remind her. “You were supposed to be sleeping in.”

She glances up at you as she slips her heel over her foot, balancing without leaning against the doorway. “Are you kidding? This is already more sleeping in than I usually get. I need to check on the prep since I didn’t get to oversee it personally.” Melissa looks away just long enough to situate her other heel before her eyes return to you, slightly harder than usual. “Besides, you still need to tell me about last night.”

You nod, hustling your little ones out the door a little faster than you might otherwise. You’re on the edge of running late and the last thing you need is some PPD squad car pulling you over because it’s 10:01 and you haven’t walked back into the station yet.

Melissa gives you a look once you’re all in the car, the girls safely into their car seats in the back. You can read her expression well enough by now. You can tell she doesn’t like what’s going on- your late night last night, you're rushing them all this morning.

You sigh as you pull out of your driveway towards the girls’ school. “I have to be back at the station at ten.” You finally say beneath the girls singing along to Frozen songs played from your phone over the car speakers.

“Back at the station?” Melissa repeats, staring at you. “What’d they need you back for? They didn’t figure all this sh—” She stops herself short of swearing with a deep breath. “They didn’t figure out what they needed from you last night?”

You glance in your rearview mirror, ensuring both the girls are still occupied. Not that they’re old enough to understand anything they may hear. They are, however, old enough to repeat whatever they hear without discretion.

“They’re investigatin’ Bobby’s murder.” You answer as you look back to traffic. “I dunno what they’ve found in doin’ that but it…it sure seems like whatever it is also put them on to the salon. I wouldn’t be surprised if they got people campin’ it.”

“So, let’s just call Tommy. He’s kept the blues off of everything for us plenty of times before.”

“Mel…” You take a breath. Tommy is one of your ins in the PPD, an old connection and friend by now. The girls call him Uncle Tommy. He comes to your house on holidays. You trust Tommy. But even Tommy can’t go up against the FBI. Not without risking himself immensely. “It’s the Feds, babe.”

“Figlio di puttana!” Your wife does curse now, not exactly quietly but not as loud as you know it would have been if you were the only two in the car. Hopefully the language switch and bigger words means if the twins heard, they can’t really repeat it properly.

Melissa doesn’t say anything else as you pull up to the twins’ school. She only speaks to say goodbye to both your girls and tell them to have a good day before you walk them in. You take a little extra time to say goodbye to them yourself in their classroom doorway. You hug them both tight, telling them you love them. Just in case. You can’t help imagining the worst from the rest of whatever today holds.

When you get back to the car, Mel has switched to the driver’s seat. You slip into the passenger without batting an eye. You can see the tension the redhead is holding. In her shoulders, in the steady whitening of her knuckles as she grips the steering wheel. You feel it all mirrored in your own muscles.

“I’m comin’ in with you.” She says as you turn down the street the station sits on.

“No.” You quickly protest. “I kept you from the restaurant last night; you need to worry about that today.” You insist.

“Fuck that, I’m not leavin’ you to sit in an interrogation room for hours again. If you had told me that’s what was happenin’ last night—”

“I was already asking plenty by asking you to miss your prep. The girls needed you to be with them last night.”

“No, what the girls needed was you to be there to keep your promise to ‘em. Don’t get me started, Y/N.”

You close your eyes briefly as Melissa swings your car into the station’s parking lot. You squeeze them tighter just a little when you hear her grumble next to you. “Oh, great. Do we really need Sammy?”

You open your eyes after a deep breath. You see Sammy, dressed immaculately in a suit as he steps from his mercedes. Salvatore ‘Sammy’ Gaetano is one of the best lawyers in the city. He’s also a member of the Italian mafia in Philly. Which is why he’s standing in the station’s parking lot, staring pointedly at you through your car’s windshield. He raises his arm, tapping his rolex. You’re running out of time.

“Look, go to the restaurant, okay? Take care of everything there that you need to, alright? I’ll ask Sammy to call your Ma to get the girls from school so you don’t have to worry about them tonight.”

Melissa’s glare turns away from Sammy, still staring as he waits on you, to you. “And what about you, huh? I’m just ‘spose to not worry about you, that it?”

“For today, yes.” You say as you unclip your seatbelt.

“Don’t be a mamaluke.” Melissa grumbles. “You know damn well I’m gonna worry anyhow.” She reaches as you open the car door, gripping the sleeve of your dress shirt and tugging you to lean across the console to her side of the car. She kisses you like her life depends on it. Like she’s worrying about the same thing you are. Like it could be the last time. “Ti voglio ben’assai.” She whispers to you when she pulls away.

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfiction #la cosa nostra #collab fic

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schemmentis · 1 month

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La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 20

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19

Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour

Summary: The arduous task of leaving, and rebuilding.

WC: 1.9k

Over the weeks that those close to you adjust to the news of your little family of four being gone, you're all recovering in the safety of the hospital. Cat's is the slowest going. You and Melissa, while still in quite a bit of pain, are out of the woods. So is Rosie, though she isn't her usual hyper and always moving self. She’s content to sit quietly with you and occasionally snuggle up close to her sister in her hospital bed.

Cat slowly, painstakingly, gets there- after another surgery and plenty of medication and watchful eyes of professionals. Her little eyes open and stay that way more and for longer periods of time. Once she's stable, you and Melissa know you can't wait any longer. You have to leave. Before word somehow gets out that you are, in fact, still alive.

Cat's doctors contact a highly respected colleague in New York to coordinate them taking over her care as soon as you get there, essentially. Before you can leave though, you have one more meeting to sit in on. This time, instead of at businesses or the police station, it's in Cat's small hospital room. Melissa is sitting on the edge of your eldest's bed, holding a tiny hand as Cat catches a bit more sleep. You're sitting in a chair at the other side of the bed, holding Rosie in your lap.

Agent Shaw and Agent Danik greet Rosie enthusiastically when they arrive, happy to see her getting a little bit back to her usual self now that her sister is improving as well. Rosie hugs them both tight, like she used to do Luca and AJ at Sunday dinners. Like she only ever does people she likes. You almost want her to hate them, but your little girl doesn’t understand that these two are a big part of the reason that you’re in the mess you are. If they hadn’t suspected you to be a part of the hit on Bobby, none of this ever would’ve come about. But even you’ll admit, they’ve done a lot for you in the last weeks. They’re almost constantly standing guard with you, and you’ve even gotten to get to know them a bit better and see more into their personal lives.

The agents take the other chairs in the room, sitting opposite you and Melissa both. Danik hands your wife a folder while Shaw hands you an identical one.

“You each have copies of the documents for the house in New York. We'll be able to mail you the proper ones once we sort out your aliases- along with more documents for you both and the girls. Right now, we've got the plane tickets just with a different last name, to keep anyone trying to from immediately realizing it's you, though I doubt anyone is looking at this point. But once you're in New York you need to have completely different ones.” Danik explains quietly.

“The girls will be confused by calling them different names…” You mutter, flipping through your folder.

“They’re already confused enough not being able to go back home,” your wife sighs softly as she runs a hand through her hair.

“I know,” you reply just as quietly.

“We could…change them to the more common versions.” Melissa suggests. You hear the pain in her tone. When you were pregnant the two of you went through more names than you could count. The meanings and their significance mused to you both, but especially your wife- with Cat carrying on a family name so dear to her. Rosie was the name she'd picked herself and added the middle name her sister also carried down from their family.

“The nicknames would be the same.” Melissa says when you look at her, a tiny shrug of her shoulders as her fingers gently card through Cat's hair. “It would confuse them less.”

“Baby, are you-”

You don't even get to ask if she's sure. Melissa's head shakes as soon as you start. “We'll know what they mean and where they came from even if no one else will. It doesn't matter if it helps keep them safe.”

Reluctantly, you nod. The safety of your daughters is the only reason you're doing this as you are. Though originally you weren't going to almost die and fake die for it. You guess it is safer this way.

“You'll have to think of ones for yourselves, then. You're more likely to be found than the girls, especially if you kept your first names.”

You sigh. “We have to have them by the time we're in New York, right?”

“Yes. We'd prefer if you had them already but it's more important that we get you out of here right now. We'll provide an income every month, a set amount to help you get by.”

“I'm sure we'll still need to work.” Melissa says, looking to Agent Dakin.

The agent smiles wryly. “Unfortunately we can't provide you mafia level money.”

“I dunno.” You say, shutting your folder as you glance to your wife. Your shoulders shrug. “Could be fun to do somethin’ totally normal for once without worrying ‘bout the rest. ‘Sides, we both have business experience. We'll figure it out.”

“Neither of you can open a business again,” Danik warns. “Publicity will not do you any favors… even in a big city like Manhattan.”

Melissa sinks. She was hoping she would be able to open another restaurant… she’d make good money in such an affluent city. But that possibility was just thrown out the window.

A few hours later, you, your wife, and your girls are on an airplane in a private area, sorting through everything.

“So… Catherine Ann and Rose Marie,” Melissa sighs as she writes your daughters new legal names. “Last name?”

You shrug. “Should we stick with Italian, or go Irish this time?”

“Probably Italian,” your wife tells you as she scribbles down a few things. “And we need new names.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I think I want to go with Saoirse... freedom,” you say softly as you rock your youngest daughter in your lap gently. “And...” you do a quick search on your phone for different Italian last names.

“Hm?” Melissa hums.

“I’m looking at common last names, and I like... Fumagalli, or.... Carozza,” you tell Melissa.

Your wife looks at you with those sparkling green eyes of her, and she then rolls them at you. “Do you have any idea what those words mean in Italian?”

You quirk your head and raise a brow. “No? Should I?”

“Fumagalli means smoked poultry,” she deadpans.

“And I love a smoked bird,” you quip. “And it’s a cool last name!”

“And Carozza literally means mozzarella cheese.”

You laugh out loud at that one. “I knew that one sounded familiar... but I do like mozzarella cheese. It’s my favorite kind!”

“Good lord,” your wife grumbles as she writes down both last names on a lined piece of paper as ideas. “You have to be kidding me. How were we a part of the mob, and yet you come up with ridiculous shit like this?”

“You love me,” you smile at her as you set a soft hand on her knee.

“You’re damn lucky.” Melissa grumbles as she writes a few of her own ideas down.

You peek over her shoulder, seeing the list of last names, your suggestions followed by her own. “What about your name?” You ask.

“Raphaela.” Your wife answers with no hesitation, making clear she's considered this about as much as you have. She glances back at you with a small, almost shy smile. “It means God has healed.”

“I guess in a roundabout way, he has, huh?” You say. “Barb would've liked that one.” You add in a quiet murmur.

Melissa doesn't miss it, nodding and muttering her own agreement as she turns back to the list of last names. “Vinci.” She says aloud, looking back to you once more. “To conquer.”

You can't fight the grin on your face at the meaning. “I like that.” You admit, quickly stealing a kiss from Melissa. “But you're sure you don't want to be mozzarella? I know it's your favorite too.” You can't help but tease.

Melissa rolls her eyes, gently shoving you back to your own seat space. “I don't want to be cheese or smoked poultry, Thank you.”

When your flight lands you and Melissa have agreed on your new identities. By the time you're in a cab and nearly to your new home, you've failed your additional attempts to persuade her into your more silly last names. Not that you really wanted to. It just gave you both something to focus on fake arguing about to pass the time.

“We'll have to wait for all the documents back before we can enroll the girls back in school.” You say as you walk with Melissa up the steps of your new house. Each of you holding one of your girls in your arms.

“Maybe that's for the best.” Melissa says from next to you. You reach behind the porch light, feeling blindly for the key you were told you'd find hidden for you. You make a mental note it might be a good idea to change the locks at the first opportunity, just to be safe. “At least it will give Cat more time to recover.” Your wife adds as you slip the key into the lock.

“Guess we'll tell them it's a little vacation?” You suggest, glancing over your shoulder.

“I don't know.” Melissa says, making a face. “That will just make them more confused when the vacation doesn't end.”

You sigh but nod, knowing she's right. “We've got time to figure it out, at least.” You say, pushing the front door open. You look back to your wife. “You ready? First step of the rest of our lives.”

“Amore, that step happened when we got on the plane, if not before that.” Melissa says softly. Still, she puts a hand on your cheek, thumb gently rubbing at your skin in affection and nerves just the same. “Hopefully there's beds, at least.” She mutters before kissing you once.

“I don’t think I could sleep on the couch again if I tried,” you grumble.

You let Melissa step in ahead of you, pulling the door shut behind you and flipping the lock back in place. You trail after your wife, glad to find a sofa in the living room. It's certainly not like your living room back in Philly, or like one actually lived in but it's something.

You don't linger there, keeping a pace behind Melissa down the hallway. She opens one of the doors, finding the bathroom. The next is a bedroom, blissfully with a bed. Again, the room is not fully decorated but the basics are here. It's enough, for now.

You and Melissa carefully nestle your sleeping daughters to the bed. You don't even bother checking the other bedroom. The two of you are already content to squeeze onto the edges of the bed with the girls. It's been a long few days. This house doesn't feel like home, not yet, if it ever will, but with the feel of Melissa’s hand slipping into your own and squeezing, the sound of the girls’ quiet breathing, it's enough of home for you for right now.

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfiction #la cosa nostra #collab fic

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