Prompt 4 -- Lost

Title: This House Is Vegas
Genre: Drama
Characters: Vinicio, Philippé
Prompt: 4 ~ Lost
Word Count: Approx. 984
Rating: PG (just in case)
Type: Series
Summary: Philippé unleashes all his pent-up rage.
Warnings: Language

With Arrigo gone and Donatella gone and that text from Rachele stating that she was at Tuomo's, Vinicio had expected to come home to an empty house, but it seemed that he was not yet too old for life to surprise him.

"...Philippé?"

He hadn't seen his eldest in close to thirteen years now, but there was no mistaking that face. He had Carmena's beautiful eyes and Vinicio's own unfortunate nose. "Dad. Rachele let me in before she left. Nice kid--shame you had to cheat on Mom in order for her to exist, really."

In his heart, he'd always known he'd see his son again, but in that moment, he realized that the occasion had always seemed so inevitable that he'd never dwelled on it. How long had he had to think of the words he might say during this reunion? It didn't matter--as it turned out, every last second of it had been lost. "I, uh... didn't know you were in town."

Philippé's eyes narrowed to slits. "Well, you never asked, did you? Thirteen years and you never asked. Thirteen fucking years, and not one letter, not one phone call, not even a damn email!"

Sighing, Vinicio closed the door and placed his briefcase on the counter. Of all the days to not get drunk at work and just spend the night at the office, why today? "Philippé, I know everything I've done has been... stupid..."

"Stupid?" repeated his son, outraged. "Stupid? Do you think the word 'stupid' can even begin to describe everything you've done to this family?"

He knew he deserved this, but with all that was going on, with his divorce from Donatella and Arrigo's disappearance, he just couldn't handle it right now. "Philippé, just listen--"

"No, you listen!" Philippé roared, the surprising force of his voice causing Vinicio to stumble; the kid certainly wasn't twelve any more, that was for sure. "I've lived in every state in this country in the past dozen years just because of your selfish, moronic whims! Do you know how many colleges I had to attend to complete my degree? Would it surprise you to know I haven't made a single good friend since you drove Mom and I out? I'm still a virgin, for Christ's sake!"

Vinicio sighed. "Philippé, I'm so sorry..."

Philippé silenced him with a sharp glare. "It's too late for apologies, Dad! You put a woman through thirteen years of hell, a woman whose only mistake was loving you! You made me an outcast! You made my sweet little baby brother a dysfunctional, pill-popping Don Juan who probably has more STDs than pairs of socks!"

What could he say to him? Some people had a way of knowing just the right words, just what to say to make it just a little better; Vinicio could not claim this gift for himself. "Philippé, your brother... your mother..."

It was useless. He should've just never had kids to begin with--he doubted there was a worse father alive. He recalled that week between Carmena and Philippé's departure and his marriage to Christine. Every night, his bedroom door would fling open and five-year-old Arrigo would come running to the bed, tears streaming from his eyes, begging Vinicio if he could sleep there that night. He'd always tried to refuse several times, then given in just to stop that damn crying. Invariably, he'd regret it, trying in annoyance to fall asleep with the kid snuggling up to him, then waking up to the alarm, having to sooth him, then hurrying off to work despite the soft, sad little voice begging, "Daddy, please don't go."

And then even after he had married Christine--on their wedding night, no less!--Arrigo had continued with this behavior. Christine had put up with it, even understood it... but not Vinicio. So far as he'd been concerned, the kid had been cock-blocking him.

God, how he wished he could take those nights back. Hell, he wished he could take it all back. "Philippé, I'm so sorry."

"'Sorry' isn't worth those thirteen years, Dad!" his son insisted yet again. "And to think, I might have forgiven you if not for all the surprises! To find out that instead of your old mafia buddies being after Mom, you really just wanted to avoid getting into shit with your mistress? And I have a little sister who I would really like if her mother hadn't wrecked our family? And my childhood sweetheart had an illegal affair with my underage brother that resulted in her dying giving birth to his baby? How much of this am I supposed to be able to handle? Is there anything else I should know, Dad?"

"Yes," he replied, trying desperately not to break his streak--he hadn't cried in twenty years, and didn't care to start now. "You should know that I love you."

Philippé sneered; it was probably the closest thing Vinicio would ever get to a laugh. "You're really full of shit, aren't you? Just face it, Dad--you wrecked me, you wrecked Mom, and you sure as hell wrecked 'Rigo. All I have to say is that it's good thing Mom found 'Rigo right after you threw him out--the way you've raised him, it's probably the best thing you could have done for him."

Of all the things he'd thought he might hear, that had been the last to cross his mind. "Wait... Arrigo's with you and your mother?"

His elder son rolled his eyes. "That's what I just said, isn't it? I honestly can't believe a delicate little thing like him survived so long under your roof. You may have just saved his life by kicking--"

"I never kicked him out," Vinicio muttered. "It was a... misunderstanding. Anyway, Philippé... I realize that I'm in no position to ask you any favors, but please--take me to your mother's house. Please."

NEXT PROMPT: