Chapter Text
Despite the fact that his job was just to cause a distraction, a street performer's misdirection to pull onlooker's eyes in his direction to cover up the real evil taking place in the shadows, losing still left Leone feeling bitter and spiteful. Maybe it was because he lost to Gold Experience, who was too saccharine for his tastes, the superhero flaunting his virtuous, do-gooder life-giving powers during their battle. He'd turned a car speeding his way into a swarm of endangered birds, the sap, without even looking like it was an obstacle. He was confident and quick witted, seeming to easily read all of Leone's movements, and maybe it bruised his ego a bit to be so easily thwarted by the hot young new superhero.
Either way, Leone stumbled into the confines of his lair, battered and actually bruised more than usual. His head was throbbing as bad as the rest of his body with an onsetting headache, and he just wanted to return home and collapse onto his small bed and sleep for a week. But unfortunately for him, Napoli's number one public nuisance was just a lowly henchman on the totem pole of bad guys, and he'd need to stay alert and at attention until the boss contacted him.
The thought of the boss contacting him sent Leone's stomach churning. Being congratulated on losing just so others could be successful always left him feeling empty and used.
As if he was good at anything other than being empty and used, he thought. Not for the first time, not even for the first time this week. It's not like he'd been in a good spot before becoming a supervillain, before being manipulated into doing Diavolo's dirty deeds and becoming an asset to the Boss' success.
That, and Diavolo's telepathy was incredibly painful. He'd compare it to someone tearing open his mind. Despite having worked under the Boss for over a year, the pain still caught him off guard, sometimes leaving him convulsing or passing out from how much it felt like his brain was splitting in half.
No wonder Fugo got out when he did.
Because he was already spiraling into a bad night, and because he had no better distraction, Leone slumped onto his sleek black couch, not even bothering to fix up his injuries from today's fight, and turned on the TV.
It was some part self-deprecating, some part numbing, to put on the news after one of his battles. He actually enjoyed watching the reports on his battles with Sex Pistols the most; rewatching that idiot shoot himself full of his own bullets was more cathartic than it should be. Leone hated reliving any of his fights with Gold Experience, hated seeing that stupid yellow superhero being so confident and good-
"-and Moody Blues really pulled all the stops today, going as far as pausing time on an entire city block for almost a minute. His intent behind the attack on Napoli remains unclear, but this was definitely a large display of power usually unseen from this villain. We now go to Bruno Buccellati, live at the scene, to assess the damage."
Bruno Buccellati. He was Napoli's number one superhero coverage reporter. At first he seemed to be just some journalist looking for a thrill, something akin to those idiots who chase after tornadoes for fun, and the first time he'd shown up at one of Leone's battles, he'd almost gotten himself caught in the crossfire. Junior reporter, perished on his debut, what a headline that would've been. Leone had written him off as just another casualty waiting to happen, except Bruno always came back. Every time there was a battle, Bruno was there. He'd see the flash of white the reporter always wore in the corner of his eye when rewinding Aerosmith's bullets back at him, would hear his voice in the background, commenting on Gold Experience's nature-based tactics. Even among the destruction and mayhem that followed a battle, Bruno would emerge unharmed. Sometimes his white suit would have some dust, but every hair on his head would still be meticulously in its bobbed place.
One time, he'd even been distracted by a small tidbit the reporter went on about gulls, the notion of Bruno meowing in the middle of battle to mimic the gulls took all of Leone's focus away from Gold Experience.
Bruno was a ridiculous part of his job, and by all means, should be a thorn in his side, but when Leone stumbled into his lair after a hard battle, bleeding and empty and ready to seal himself away from the world until he was called on again, a light flicker of hope would spark in his chest when he'd turn on the TV and see Bruno there. His reactions to the battle were so animated. He was always so focused, and he'd gotten good at reading battle tactics and reporting them clearly and with a little excitement buried under the stress of the situation. But the most interesting thing about Bruno was he gave Moody Blues the same adoration and excitement as he gave the superheroes like Gold Experience, Aerosmith, and Sex Pistols.
Did he deserve the same praise as them when he was the bad guy? Maybe not. But did it, even just marginally, feel good to be appreciated? For a reporter to read his movements and see him thinking two steps ahead of the newbies, to see him carefully maneuver himself until he has the advantage and applaud Moody Blues for his tactics? It made Leone like having Bruno on the battlefield, made him not hate wasting his time watching the news.
Bruno was leading up to an interview he was going to conduct with Gold Experience, which Leone didn't want to listen to, so he just focused on Bruno. He felt himself zoning out until his attention was hyperfocused on Bruno and only Bruno.
And yeah, maybe he had some weird soft spot for the reporter, with his strangely stylish bowl cut with his gold hairpins, and his suit much too fancy for his environment. Maybe he liked the determined set of Bruno's striking blue eyes, or the strength and conviction he carried in his voice. Maybe a small part of him, long separated from the fact that his job was to be a literal bad person working for bad people, enjoyed having something akin to a fan. So maybe, just maybe, he had a bit of a celebrity crush.
He was zoning out, so focused on trying to wash out his misery from today's defeat that he missed the first twinge of pain that warned him of the oncoming telepathy.
"Abbacchio."
The boss' words ripped through Leone's mind, and his hands shot up to grapple at his silver hair, the heels of his palms pressing into his forehead as if he can prevent the immediate pain of having someone probe into his head.
"You did well causing a big commotion, and your fight with Gold Experience is all the press is talking about. Keep up the good work, I expect it from you."
And with another flash of searing pain, Diavolo's voice was gone, leaving Leone reeling on the couch, his teeth clenched and uneven breathing drowning out the interview being conducted on TV. The toll of the telepathy on top of his defeat from Gold Experience hit him in a flood, and Leone found himself collapsing into a heap on the cushions, trying to catch his breath and stop the aching and shaking of his stressed muscles, and after a few minutes of trying to calm down, he found himself succumbing to an unwanted sleep.
-
An alarm was going off.
Leone stirred from his stupor some time later. He wasn't sure how long he slept, only that his headache persisted. His TV was still on, still reporting the news, and as he ran a hand up his face and through his hair he realized that he fell asleep still in his costume covered in dust and muck, with his makeup still smudged and his forehead covered in sweat.
But the state of his clothes and face didn't diminish the fact that there was an alarm going off. Something was wrong, something had infiltrated his secret lair, and Leone jolted up, rushing to the small closet that held his surveillance console to see what was the matter.
He booted the system out of rest mode and began to furiously flick through the cameras. The staticky gray screens flickered to life, showing nothing but clear perimeters around the base. So it wasn't a police raid or government infiltration. He could feel body tensing from anxiety as he flipped through his screens. "Maybe it was just a sewage worker, or a wandering kid, too close to the hideout," he found himself muttering, trying to persuade his body to calm down, but the alarm kept sounding and he was finding nothing on the screens.
Then he heard the very distinct sound of footsteps in the hall, the loud clack of heeled shoes echoing through the concrete tunnels, and he whipped around, a dagger in his hand and his ability ready to pause time.
His intruder was already leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed in front of the ridiculous heart-shaped collar of his white suit. He wore a smirk on his face like he hadn't just somehow waltzed into a supervillain's headquarters, his blue eyes more striking face to face in the dim computer light than Leone had ever seen it on TV.
"Moody Blues, I've been looking into you for a very long time. I'm Bruno Buccellati from Passione News, and I'd like to conduct an interview with you."
Leone was frozen, speechless to see the reporter standing in his door frame. "Wha- How did you-" His words were failing him. What was Bruno Buccellati doing in his secret lair? How did he find him? How did he even get in?
His anxiety and uncertainty was quickly melting into anger as his brain caught up with the fact that there was a news reporter, someone whose job it was to share stories and secrets with the general population, standing in front of him, a villain, in his secret lair.
"You're very hard to follow. No matter how dire your situation gets in battles, you always seem to make a clean escape. Trust me, it took a lot of investigating and a bit of help to find you." Bruno pushed off the wall, taking an interest in the computers behind Leone. The room was tiny, a simple closet only used to store his security system computers. "This is a good security system you've got going on here, and hiding underground? No wonder you're so hard to find."
He stepped closer to the console, close enough to be in range of Leone's dagger, but he seemed nonplussed to the danger. Leone couldn't tell if he's stupid, or just doesn't feel threatened by him.
Leone's body was stuck in flight or fight mode when Bruno stepped into his space. With him so close, all it took was for Leone to reach out and get a good grip on his suit lapels, and push all his weight into slamming Bruno against the wall, snarling at him. "You need to leave, now." He was taller than the reporter, and definitely had more muscle mass, but even with the weight behind his movement, Bruno's body yielded to him without resistance.
Bruno looked unfazed but his eyes narrowed in retaliation, and he raised his hands. One loosely held a recording device. "I came to interview you, and I'm not going to leave until I'm done."
Leone found himself baffled by Bruno's request. Not many would continue to throw demands around while being pinned to a wall by a supervillain. But here was Bruno, starting Leone down with nothing but sheer determination.
His body shuttered under the rigidity of his posture, his injuries throbbing and screaming at him to relax and rest, and Leone let out an annoyed huff as he let go of Bruno and stepped back to give the man some space.
He couldn't even win against one reporter.
"There's nothing to discuss about me," he said, turning away from Bruno, hiding himself from his gaze and trudging out of the room and into the hallway towards the main door. He didn't like the thought of Bruno walking in through his front door, but, "If you can let yourself in, you can let yourself out."
He hoped Bruno would catch on that Leone only wanted to be alone right now and leave. But heavy footsteps followed him nonetheless. Not that he expected much else. "There is much to talk about, Moody Blues," Bruno persisted. "You've got a brilliant power and know how to wield it, but your motives are all over the place. I want to get to know what's going on inside your head, who you are, what you stand for."
"I don't stand for anything," Leone replied, the words rushing out through clenched teeth and rising anger. He still stood with his back to Bruno. He knew when he was fighting a losing battle, it was basically his forte at this point in his career, and the drive behind Bruno's eyes was enough to crack him open and spill his secrets.
And spilling anything about Diavolo would surely get him killed.
"Besides, nobody would sympathize with the big bad villain of Napoli."
"I think a lot of people in Napoli would care about Moody Blues."
"No one would care about Moody Blues," Leone seethed, his anger getting the best of him. He turned and poked his finger into Bruno's chest to punctuate his point. "Nobody cares about who the big loser nuisance is that terrorizes the city, nobody wants to read-"
"Well I do," Bruno snapped back, and his hand jerks up to grasp at Leone's forearm, digging the finger harder against his chest. "I care about Moody Blues. I want to know your side of the story."
Silence fell over the room. Leone felt overwhelmed, like the wind was knocked out of him. His breath came shallow and he was already so exhausted, and the fight behind Bruno's eyes burned with a passion too strong for him to combat. Fine. Fine. If Bruno Buccellati wanted to interview him, then fine. His shoulders sagged, but he still kept his glare at Bruno. "Fine," he succumbed. A flash of anger rose in him at how quick Bruno's face switched from demanding to relieved. He already knew he was being played, but Bruno's smile made his skin prickle. "If you care so much, knock yourself the fuck out."
He headed back into his hideout's living room, dropping onto the couch. He took a second to roll his shoulders, try to loosen out the stress in his back, but his side screamed at him.
He loosened the cord that held his costume's shirt on and let it fall around him. Sure enough, there was a gash in his side stained red from dried blood.
"You didn't clean up your injuries." It wasn't a question, more of an observation, as Leone winced and softly pressed a hand to the spot where Gold Experience had grazed him with a particularly sharp wooden stake. "Or your makeup." Leone garnered a look up at Bruno, who was standing at the entrance to the room. He looked contemplative.
"Are we going to do this interview of your's, or what."
Bruno took a minute to reply, his eyes grazing over Leone. If Leone didn't already feel wrung out, he was sure he'd have some sort of blush from the thorough once-over Bruno was giving him. "Or what," Bruno said, his hands poised to his hips. He looked disappointed. "You need to-"
"I know how to take care of myself," Leone spat. "I don't need you coming in and criticizing me."
"It's not criticism," Bruno said, and he stepped down the hall for a second. Leone had no idea where he was going, had no idea what could possibly be going on in this crazy reporter's head.
A minute later, Bruno appeared with a first aid kit. Leone glared at him in suspicion. He had no bag, nothing with pockets big enough to hold a first aid kit. Where had he- "Where did you-"
Bruno brushed past him to settle on the other side of the couch. "I'm not going to conduct my interview while you're still bleeding."
He sat there while Leone fixed himself up. Leone couldn't muster enough energy to care about being self-conscious as he sat half naked on the couch pressing hydrogen peroxide to his wounds. He set right to work, practically on autopilot, methodically cleaning and wrapping his injuries. Bruno seemed to follow Leone's lead; every time Leone looked up to grab another item from the first aid kit, Bruno already had the item extended out to him.
His biggest injury was the one Gold Experience gave him, but luckily it wasn't deep enough to require stitches.
As soon as he was fixed up, not bothering to check how bad his makeup was, Leone slumped against the back of the couch. His eyes flickered over to Bruno, who was lost in thought, his focus having landed somewhere around Leone's abs. "Well," Leone said, clearing his throat. He was so tired and could feel his eyes straining to stay open. "Are we going to get through this."
Bruno looked up at him with conviction. "Can I start by getting your name?"
Leone snorted. "So you can hand it over to the government and get me arrested?" It came out more dull than accusatory. He was so exhausted.
But Bruno gives him a confused cock of the head. "I'm not trying to get Moody Blues locked away. I said it before, I want to know your story. Your name will be omitted from anything I compile. I just want to know how to address you."
One of the first rules of being a supervillain is to never give out your name. However, if this investigator could find his secret hideout...
"Fine. You'll probably just figure it out on your own if I don't tell you." Bruno gave him a small, proud smile, and Leone had a lot of mixed feelings about that. "It's Leone."
"Leone. Well it's good to meet you, Leone."
It turned out that what Bruno had in mind wasn't quite an interview. Leone had watched Bruno conduct interviews on TV, and this wasn't the same. There were no questions about motives or tactics or protecting lives, not that the last one would apply to Moody Blues. He asked about Leone's favorite foods and movies, and it flowed more like a conversation as their discussion dissolved into a debate about red versus white wine.
It was nice. Leone couldn't remember the last time he had a good conversation with another person that wasn't just banter in a fight, and Bruno had pretty good tastes and opinions on things. Leone enjoyed his company. Which was surprising, considering he intruded into Leone's headquarters. Regardless, Bruno was pleasant to talk with.
As Bruno dove into why Il Postino is his favorite movie, Leone realized his headache had dulled now to almost nonexistance. But his eyes were still drooping and his body still ached. He didn't realize he'd zoned out until Bruno's voice stopped.
When he looked up, he found Bruno gazing back at him. His face was relaxed; now that he wasn't determinedly willing Leone to interview with him, the traces of a smile played on his lips and he simply stared at Leone. "Thank you, Leone, for your time," he said, placing a warm hand on Leone's shoulder. "I'll leave you to rest for today." He pulled away and when he stood, took a moment to straighten out his suit. "I'm busy with work this week so I won't be able to come back to continue the interview until Saturday, is that okay?"
That determined look was back as he stood over Leone, urging him on for some kind of confirmation that yes, this was going to happen again.
Leone couldn't believe the words he was hearing. Considering the circumstances, Leone should pack up and find another secure location, and tell Bruno to leave him alone for good. Instead, he was too busy thinking about how he usually didn't spend time in his lair outside of work. He could just come back when Bruno wanted to arrange for another interview. It's not like he was going to give Bruno his apartment number and invite him to know where he lives, too.
"Uh yeah, Saturday," he agreed shakily. "I can be here."
Bruno relaxed his shoulders for a moment. Why, Leone didn't know. Did he expect the supervillain to rebuff his offer, even though he's yielded to everything Bruno's so far thrown his way? "Great! I'll swing by the same time I did today. I'll just let myself in, I don't think you have a doorbell.
Leone still didn't know how he got it, but if he can manage it again, "Yeah, sure, whatever works."
As he let Bruno out, through the front door this time, Leone found himself watching the sewage tunnel long after the reporter had gone. He was smiling, or at least the corners of his mouth were twisting upward. It was a strange encounter, but despite everything, he was excited to see Bruno again.