[ For Abbacchio's part, he doesn't know exactly how much time passed between the ninjas and the shadows, but it's not lost on him either how lucky he must be. To somehow find his way back to Bucciarati for a second time. He doesn't believe in fate, but if he did, he'd find it increasingly difficult to make an argument against it. The hotel is still something of a mystery to him, but he'd be a fool were he not grateful for the opportunity to see his capo once more.
Bucciarati leans against him, and muscle memory takes over, wordlessly he manoeuvres Bucciarati's arm around his shoulders to properly support his weight. The water hasn't helped, but between himself and Moody Blues, it's an easy enough task, and one that Abbacchio dutifully takes upon himself. With little fanfare he begins heading in the direction Bucciarati indicated, water still sloshes around their feet and makes things more difficult, but there's consolation in the knowledge that it won't be long before they make it out towards the elevators.
He's silent, for the most part, lost in thought as he often is, and not wanting to press any of the bigger issues that lie just beneath the surface. There is one thing he thinks is manageable, that shouldn't be an emotional weight to drop onto either of their shoulders. ]
… do you know how long it's been since we last spoke?
[ Weeks, maybe months? He hopes it hasn't been longer, though it wasn't in his control, it would still feel like a personal failure. He knows that Bucciarati is perfectly capable without him, that his own reliance on him isn't mutual, but it would be hard not to see it as though he'd let him down. ]
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Bucciarati leans against him, and muscle memory takes over, wordlessly he manoeuvres Bucciarati's arm around his shoulders to properly support his weight. The water hasn't helped, but between himself and Moody Blues, it's an easy enough task, and one that Abbacchio dutifully takes upon himself. With little fanfare he begins heading in the direction Bucciarati indicated, water still sloshes around their feet and makes things more difficult, but there's consolation in the knowledge that it won't be long before they make it out towards the elevators.
He's silent, for the most part, lost in thought as he often is, and not wanting to press any of the bigger issues that lie just beneath the surface. There is one thing he thinks is manageable, that shouldn't be an emotional weight to drop onto either of their shoulders. ]
… do you know how long it's been since we last spoke?
[ Weeks, maybe months? He hopes it hasn't been longer, though it wasn't in his control, it would still feel like a personal failure. He knows that Bucciarati is perfectly capable without him, that his own reliance on him isn't mutual, but it would be hard not to see it as though he'd let him down. ]