The waves kissed the pier piles.

Giovanni flicked a cigarette onto the night water, letting it sizzle for a split second before being put out. His feet dangled over the cold water while he appreciated the silence around him. His arm was almost healed, but he still couldn't drive. SimonLaurel was standing by the car, having his own cigarette, taking a swing from a hip flask once in a while.

Giovanni's mind was adrift and reminisced to simpler times. He was stressed, his hand being hurt had set work back quite a bit and he was having some issues back at the HQ. The only solace he got was at home, but his wife was under the stress of an increased workload.

He looked over to the stars and enjoyed the relaxing singing of the waves around him. His heart was soothed by the amicable melody as he allowed himself to drift to the day where he arrived at the states.

The boat horn produced a loud noise.

Giovanni wasn't keen on loud noises or busy places. He liked peace of mind and shade, but all he was getting today was commotion and daylight. It was too much of a big day to worry about such petty things, and thus, Giovanni ignored the horn and the people and moved with ThomasLaurel towards the immigration office.

They had been all over the place, brewing trouble. But today was a little different, Giovanni could just feel it in his bones. Smoking a cigarette, he knocked on the door. As his hand broke away from the door, the knocking continued.

"Gio! Gio! Cazzo, what's wrong with you!?"

He opened his eyes to his younger brother's features, facing him on a starlit background.

Feeling his back against the cold floor, Gio scoffed and wiggled around. Sitting back up, he gave his brother a confused look. He looked back at him and blurted.

"Fratello, I can't have you falling asleep on me like that!"

Giovanni smiled. The pain medication did that to him, sometimes. Daydreaming would turn serious pretty quickly and this is most of the reason why he wasn't driving.

He'd find himself falling asleep in a variety of places, and in the most inconvenient of times. He wasn't too used to this, or to medicine at all. He ended up blaming himself.

"Your older brother is getting old, Simon. I'm going to need you to help me through the next few days, it seems."

Simon was worried about his brother. He was painfully aware his brother was a workaholic. Giovanni had a tendency to live his work, which made his career choice perfect. His recent injury would put him out of order for a while but he had his brothers there to help with everything that he needed.

He was taking increasingly large sips of his flask. The rich dignified sweet whiskey made his mouth water for more with each sip.

He took a long drag of his cigarette and put his head back exhaling through his nose looking at the stars. It looked magnificent. As the last of the smoke was leaving his lungs, he brought his head back down. The peaceful moment was broken by Giovanni slumping back on to his back.

After a brief "what the fuck" moment, Simon rushed to his aid. Seconds seemed to stretch with each step, panic was setting in. Thoughts of his older brother going lights out ran through his mind at a thousand miles an hour. He kneeled next to his brother and tapped his face a couple of times, slightly harder every time.

When he woke, relief filled Simon.

"You? Old? Do you remember what Papà said? You're only old when you can't get it up! Are you trying to tell me something?"

Simon said bursting into laughter halfway through his sentence. Seeing his brother awake put him at ease; Simon chalked his brother's collapse to his medication. He put his hand on his brother's shoulder:

"I'm more than happy to help, you can always count on your famiglia."

A cheeky smile developed on Simons' face. He wasn't even trying to be discreet:  "Your car is amazing too..." shooting a little wink.

Giovanni quickly put two and two together and frowned.

"Opportunistic bastard..."

He helped his brother up and wiped his shoulders with his hands.  Simon pulled his flask at took another sip, holding it out to his brother as he moved the golden liquid around his mouth.

"So, what were you thinking about that made you go down like Singer against Canzoneri?"

Giovanni laughed softly as he caught hold of his wind once again. He was weary and soft from the medication.

"It still works, no worries in that department." he smiled at his brother as he heard the reassurance that he'd help him out until he was okay.

As of late, his help had been invaluable. Thomas had been busy working and training. He was focused on his goals and Gio was happy for him, but he couldn't help but feel like he was being neglected.

"Such is life in our business."

Hearing the remark about his car made him frown, but he quickly realized it was just his younger brother taking the piss. His extended flask made up for a valid excuse, but Gio still refused it. It wasn't a good idea to mix alcohol and painkillers, and he had learned that the hard way. Chromatik had to drag him out to bed just a few days before, and he wasn't trying to go out cold in the middle of the pier.

"Not today, brother, not today. I don't think the doctor would be too happy about me drinking."

Roaming his own thoughts for a minute, Giovanni tried to recall what was he thinking about before passing out. Assaulted once again by nostalgia, he remarked:

"Thinking of simpler times, brother. But also tougher times. I was just reminiscing on my arrival to these shores."

Simon shrugged, if his brother didn't want the booze he'd happily drink it. He polished off the rest of the whiskey in his flask in one big gulp and leaned on the nearby railing facing away from his brother admiring the scene. The small waves crashing on the pier with the moon above them. With a simple mention, memories flashed through Simon's head. He remembered the last days before his brothers set off on their travels and the days after where their mother wept uncontrollably. The weeks of making excuses to all of ThomasLaurel's "girlfriends". Not to mention the husbands.

"I remember when you left home, mamma cried for so long. She worries about you and Thomas a lot..."

He turns around and rests his behind on the railing, tilting his head back looking at the stars again.

"I'd love to know what adventures you and Thomas were up to on your travels. I always imagined my fratelli were like the American outlaws, exploring the west and doing what you do best... causing trouble for the authorities"

"You can't be stuck on that." Giovanni shrugged "The lifestyle we chose makes it hard to keep meaningful connections beyond blood and omertá. People are close one day and lost on the other. Death lingers over us like the moon, and there really is nothing we can do about it."

He gripped his injured hand for a moment. The cold air of the night made it hurt a little more, but not enough that Gio would deprive himself of it. It was his favourite, after all. Dark nights hid a lot of things, and Giovanni was fond of approaching issues with subterfuge.

"You have an image in your mind I can't help but spoil. Thomas and I weren't outlaws living in the wild west. We were poor kids from Italy who hopped into a boat to find a better life." Giovanni's eyes turned from an appreciative gaze into a weary stare. The corners of his mouth hardened for a second before he proceeded.

"It's a shame how many younglings think this is a romantic life of ill-gotten gains and riches. Younglings like you, Simon. Educated people, with the tools to do more than I ever could." he nodded himself out of it and faced his brother, bringing a cigarette up to his lips. "You got a light?"

Simon lit the cigarette in his mouth and he took a long drag from it. He let the smoke linger in his lung for a little while before expelling it. Lately, he was chain smoking his worries away, trying to cope with feelings he couldn't recognize or control. Life was hard for a mobster, and Giovanni was still making peace with himself.

His brother's arrival was unexpected and eye-opening, and he had to settle into the shoes of the older brother. The idle time from his injury didn't help, as he had plenty of time to think things through over and over again. It was preoccupying him how could their family be alone in the old country, how could Simon have left them unprotected.

"It really isn't a winning path, brother. It's a way of loss. Whatever you win, you end up losing in yourself. I'm not the person I once was and it'll happen to you too. You might brush it off as "old man talk", but you'll soon realize I'm right. Let's just hope it isn't too late."

Giovanni lead the cigarette to his lips once again. The duo stood in silence for a while, as if Giovanni was meant to continue after awkward pauses. He was taking his time with words, after all. But for now, he didn't really have much else to say. He wanted Simon to chew on this for a few minutes before he'd go anywhere else.

He swung his legs on the outer side of the pier like a child for a moment or two, while he finished smoking.

His brother's words really went through Simon. They sat in silence as he absorbed every word. He couldn't help but think if it could've been a mistake coming to the US after his brothers. If throwing away a career working for a big company to run the books for mafiosos and their friends was worth it. All because of money. 

It was true that he was a stranger to this life. No matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.

But he enjoyed the thrill of danger. He'd lived a somewhat sheltered life. Only ever venturing in his studies advancing them to the highest possible point. His vision of the world was warped in rose lenses. He'd never been in real danger. He'd only held a gun in his hand recently. At least one with the intent of killing another human being. 

In essence, he always knew this life was glorified in any way. The possibility of a shot to the back of the head was too close to comfort. Hearing from his brother forced him to face that reality. 

His never-ending greed to fill up his own pockets with as much as possible always held him back. It was a sober moment, one that he was sure to remember.

He heard his mother's words in his head: "Il male non capita solo agli altri, Simon.  Stai attento."

He felt like a little boy again missing his mother with a fear of the world around him.

Simon sat down next to his brother on the pier. Lighting yet another cigarette. If "the life" wouldn't kill them, cancer was sure to be the next most probable cause of death.

"Giovanni, I have a present for you. I was going to give you it at a later date, maybe your birthday, but cazzo: we never know when our last day is. Amirite?"

He reached into his jacket pocket and removed a small black box. He took the top off and showed his brother the solid gold ZIPPO lighter with the engraving:

"DURA PRAXIS, SED PRAXIS"

Images of a sun surrounded by a laurel wreath covered the back.

"God Apollo Giovanni, God of the Sun, Leader of Praxis! Like in the books our mother read to us!"

The alcohol was finally hitting Simon. He could still function but the sudden intoxication as everything hit him together made him feel dizzy which he quickly shook off. He tried to keep his composure since he'd taken out the present but was quite it was quite obvious to someone who knew him as well as his brother did. He smiled.

"Do you like it?"

Giovanni saw the lighter and smiled.

He had a few lighters, but he never went through much to have them customized. This was a gift from his brother and he very much appreciated it, from its purpose to its care and attentive nature.

He took it out of the box and appreciated it, allowing it to shine under the bright moonlight. "That's right, dear brother. We never really know when we'll be gone or going. It forces us to live in the moment. That's why people like us are usually regarded as reckless."

He tried the lighter out, firing it up and closing its lid to put it out. "We're all different people. Some of us are convinced we're the good guys, others don't give it any thought at all. All the families have their own wild cards and their most discreet members. The only thing we have in common is survival."

He faced his brother with weary eyes, his mind slightly adrift. "That's what you must ask yourself, Simon. Are you a survivor? Thomas and I got into this to survive, and in a way so did you. But is that still your primary priority?"

Simon's head tilted forward, staring hard at the floor. His mind processing his brother's words. He'd never asked himself that. His eyes lifted while his head stayed down. He looked at his brother. Each aging feature that had previously gone unnoticed. It dawned on him how long it had actually been since they last saw each other. Unable to put together a reply he stopped thinking about it and just spoke.

"Whether I'm a survivor or not, depends on how far down Death's list I am. Nobody survives life. Maybe life's many events, but not life. You see Giovanni, since my arrival here I've come to understand a lot about this life from watching you, Thomas and the rest of the guys. In all honesty, I'd only seen it from newspaper stories and account ledgers. I've learnt that in order to survive: we need to stick to those we trust. I have many friends and colleagues from the university, but there is no trust like one built in family. In shared beginnings."

Simon took out his last cigarette and lit it with his other hand. Flicking the top shut as he took a long hard pull.

"Fratello, my priority is my family. You, Thomas and all the other bastards that are walking the trail with us. I don't fear death. Nevertheless, I try my best to respect it from afar. Maybe that is surviving? When my time comes and it finally catches up to me, I'll be happy if I feel I've done everything I can for both of you and our parents back home. We may be good guys or bad guys, honestly, it's irrelevant. We are what we need to lead the life we deserve. Mamma said it was impossible to die without regret: I think she's right. You live by the gun, you die by the gun. You live for the money, you'll surely die for the money. I may or may not share the common trait in life, but there is absolute certainty that we share a common ending with death."

He finally finished after spiralling into the condensed monologue of his unfiltered thoughts. It was unusual for him to have so much to say but he was no stranger to the topic of death. He'd thought about how and why he was going to die many times, ranging from the possible to the highly improbable. His favourite: slipping into death painlessly while having sex with the sexiest woman in the world. The thought of death by drilling brought an ill-timed smile to his face which he tried his best to hide.

"I don't know if that's the reply you expected but that's what I think. We're family. We live for each other, we'll die for each other. Isn't that how it works?"