Work Text:
Mafioso opened the door to an unexpected surprise, TwoTime was standing for once. Not trembling inside a wheelchair, not murmuring to a God who has abandoned them once their body gave out. And who was beside them? Guest, his eyes steady ready to assist if need be. The home was warm, wrapped in the warmth you could only feel from people who came together to survive. The sizzle on the stove, smooth and steady. A pot bubbling from boiling water inside. This, this was home. Mafioso could already feel the ache in his joint start to unwind as he slipped into the safety of his home. Of their home. What the spawn couldn't ruine. What the nightmares and ghosts of the battle field couldn't drown. What reminded mafioso of exactly why he still came home. It was this, food on the table, warm. Being with the two people who saw the best and worst side of him and still stay. That, is what family is.