Y'all...I did it! I thought I was going to stop at 2000 words, but I just got so invested in this idea that the final count is somewhere over 5000. Welp, I got one request done! *realizes there's more requests to be started and cries, but still excited to do them* Anyway, let's kick this off with a long one-shot with fluff and angst. There's a bit of swearing, so just a heads up! Enjoy <3

~~~~~ 

"Forgive me father for I have sinned. I took the life of an innocent man, a profoundly stupid man, but yeah an innocent one, Weasel Albert Arlington. I ain't sure what he was thinkin' when he sent us on that goose chase, but that didn't mean he had to die. We didn't have to kill him,I know now that you must've sent him to test me, O lord and I failed my last chance at redemption." - Salvatore DeLuca

~~~~~

For the past few years, Salvatore DeLuca has found himself walking (or is he floating in this new state that he is in? Salvatore is still not sure after what seems like years being in such a weightless trance.) into the Infirmary each endless night. No matter how many paths he takes around Alcatraz, no matter how many turns he makes, his journeys always end in this room. Salvatore had no fond memories of the Infirmary, in his days alive or in the hellish purgatory he was subjected to before becoming a trapped spirit. He thinks he should know its significance, but he brushes the whole idea off just like every problem he's faced: It's his Lord's way of punishing him for his sins.

When he came into the Infirmary the first time as a spirit, he thought nothing of it. He was far too stressed from not only his situation of being unable to pass to the other side, but also the other unrelenting spirits walking with him. It was unnerving for the first time to see familiar faces as spirits and realizing he himself was one of them. He had a reputation amongst them as an imposing leader and even in the afterlife, many of them were looking to him for answers. He knows many of them; fellow mobsters, hitmen for hire before Billy, gang rivals, petty criminals he picked up from the streets. He remembers how they all looked when he told them straight up without even blinking; no matter his status, no matter how close he was to Stanley Ferguson, he was just as screwed like the rest of them.

After that, the whole prison of damned souls went on a riot. Their screams of agony and anger rang through the empty cells and corridors for the rest of the day, damning whoever was responsible for their purgatory and begging whoever would listen to set them free. Salvatore did not do such things and for the first time in his life he did not know what to do next. He did what felt only the best for himself.

He turned and walked away.

~~~~~

Walking has become a daily task and it seemed like his only way of keeping his sanity by at least doing something to occupy his time. He's done this back when he was alive, back when he used to walk the nicer areas of the Windy City on cold mornings. The only difference about these walks is that he no longer has to have anyone accompany him and he no longer has to constantly look over his shoulder. But even in death, it seemed eternal peace wasn't guaranteed.

He's gained enemies for constant reasons, but in the afterlife it's mainly about failing everyone. It's something no one in the business ever thought was possible, especially for someone like Salvatore.

Salvatore DeLuca. The Italian immigrant that was born into poverty, scraping for whatever could help him live to the next day. The same child that ran away from home, abandoning his hard-working and caring parents, to the Windy City. At such a delicate age, he survived on whatever job he could take to get by instead of opening his palms like a beggar. The child that grew up and became a charismatic, experienced man, never looking back when he wanted more in life; more money, more power. The older man that made a name for himself in the criminal underworld for his empire, his tendency to declare turf wars against gang rivals and winning, and being the one and only individual that was responsible for Billy Handsome.

All the things he accomplished in a lifetime. And yet, it no longer mattered anymore to anyone. It was no longer about money, power, and respect here. Freedom. Even when he was alive, the word couldn't describe Salvatore's childhood or his mob life. Freedom always seemed out of reach like the supposed heaven above him where it's nice and warm and bright endlessly, a far cry from the prison. He wonders if his parents and if Grandma are looking down on him at this very moment and the possibility only brings him more guilt.

What got into him? At such a young age, how could he have been so stupid? Causing his folks, causing Bella and Silvercup so much pain on his departure. He didn't even say goodbye and he didn't even take into account about their own feelings. Did they ever stop looking for him? How could he have abandoned them? How did he make it big in this foreign country but not ever think about them, folks that were probably still struggling in the slums? How many birthdays did he miss? When did Grandma die, when did his mama and pops die? Where were they buried and who showed up? Did Bella and Silvercup have to turn to prostitution to feed themselves while he was making money off of the girls he had under his empire? Did anyone forget him?

How could they possibly--have they even forgiven him?

A part of him knows that this is a suitable punishment for his misdeeds and for the pain he caused to not only his family, but to the lives of the rival men he ruined, to Torrio's men, to Billy, to the men, women, and children he had Billy kill, to the poor girl he brutally murdered that night, to Wea--

He stops himself immediately.

The other half persuades him, ever so soft and tempting, to finally ask for forgiveness.

He relents once more, anger consuming him yet again before he storms out the Infirmary. He continues to walk endlessly into a night that never ends.

~~~~~

It isn't long until he finds himself in the Infirmary the second time tonight. The only difference is that he finally decides to stay and actually look around him. There's nothing that stands out to him, it's still the same room that's connected to the balcony area and nothing more. He doesn't remember how the infirmary looked before it was manifested into a hellish form, but a far distant memory of coming here for a bad cold paints a vivid picture in his mind. For a moment, he can see chipping, tile walls, dull bed sheets over stained hospital beds, rusting tubs, and the smell of antiseptics and bleach overwhelms him. The imagery of what was once the real world mixed in with the strong smell are too much for him that he clenches his eyes shut and reopens them a minute later, only for the imagery and smell to disappear.

All that's left is what he's grown so familiar with and he stares at them blankly. The tubs are there and they're filled to the brim with blood. It never fazed him, but he wonders about the unfortunate men that were drained of it. He looks at the ripped, stained diagrams of the human body and mind on the wall before setting his eyes on the steel medical exam table underneath the exam lights. He knows Billy's psyche exams were in another wing of the prison, but he feels more guilt settle within him when he takes a look at the lone ribcage resting on the table. He begins to wonder who it could be for a moment when he hears the flutter of wings behind him followed by a squawk. He looks to his immediate left to see a small bird resting on one of the edges of the first tub.

Confused and in awe at the sight of an animal here, he walks towards the small creature. He realizes two things that stick out when he's closer: This bird (a seagull he also realizes) is a spirit and there's a paper underneath its webbed feet. The seagull does not fly away when Salvatore reaches down to grab the paper. Suddenly, his fingers begin to shake.

It's a drawing. It's Weasel's drawing. Suddenly, another distant memory fills his head and all he can do is watch it play, hopeless.

~~~~~

It's May 11, 1930 when Salvatore agrees to have Albert Arlington in the DeLuca Crime Family. As the two share a drink in one of Los Angeles' low-profile speakeasies, he points out the drawing that the man is scribbling on. The other man, nervous for a few seconds until he realizes that he must answer to the leader of one of Chicago's notorious crime families and his new boss, he tells him that he wants to be a comic artist. Salvatore only nods, commenting that the man has a gift but also telling him that he'd earn far more if he did his job right under Salvatore. The man smiles lightly and declares that he can live with that for now.

It's a month later and the new blood finds Salvatore, heavily intoxicated and with a gun pointed at his own head. Albert stops him and Salvatore berates him for it, telling him he wasn't that stupid to end it yet and that Albert needs to watch himself. When the man leaves and it's a new day of paying off Chicago's Finest and looking at where his business stood in the war against Torrio, he doesn't stop thinking about Albert's defiance. Albert shows it again when he ends up taking a bullet from a man that stepped in front of them from a dark alleyway. While his own men do their best to fix him up after they arrive to one of their many safehouses, Billy's going on a rant that he should've done it and he won't be outdone by a rat. Salvatore drowns him out as his eyes are on the man; his interest is now piqued finally.

It's a week later and thanks to a private investigator, he finds out his potential murderer came from Torrio. He sends Billy to find the hitman and he's given him orders to do whatever he pleases as long as it makes the headlines. He spends time by Albert's side since there's nothing else to do at the moment. The bullet missed his heart by just an inch, but a few of his men were hired for being the best in the medical field, back when they were struggling to find work. They remove the bullet successfully and Albert's working hard on that sketch he saw before. They're there in comfortable silence, the sound of Albert shading and erasing filling their ears.

It's the next day and Salvatore hands Albert today's newspaper. It's the front page and Albert reads the details of the man that shot him. He was a young man, younger than Billy's age, and he reads how his body was found floating in Shorewood's Dupage river. He reads about the gruesome details when they pull the man's corpse out the water, realizing when they flip him over that there's a large tear that starts from his throat to his abdomen; his organs between those areas were ripped out. Albert puts the newspaper down and out of nowhere asks Salvatore if Billy did it. Salvatore only nods and adds that he ordered it. Albert looks at him, surprise written all over his face.

"How come?", he says.

"Torrio's men don't get off easy comin' after me. They don't get to live if they go after my men.", he firmly states.

"I'm new, Boss. I still haven't proven my worth yet.", Albert continues.

"Took a bullet for me, didn't you? That's enough to know you were a good addition."

"Again Boss, I haven't done anything for your business yet. I might fuck u-"

Salvatore puts a hand on Albert's shoulder and the man immediately becomes silent, his different colored eyes looking at him nervously as if he should've taken Salvatore's words the first time. Salvatore does believe he should've taken his words the first time, but Albert is right. He is new and he has a long way to go, but when he looks down at Albert's sketch and looks back at him, his hand on the man's shoulder becomes gentle.

"You haven't, Al. That's a fact, but I got faith in you."

For a split second, Salvatore thinks he can see a bit of warmth across the man's eyes when he says that, but it's gone when they harden with determination.

It's three months now and Salvatore's faith in the man has paid off. Albert Arlington, master schemer and bank robber, has helped the DeLuca crime family become prosperous in the last three months than they ever were for the past eight years. Salvatore and Albert, along with Billy, Finn, and Angela decide to celebrate at the Cabana Room. Drinks are on the house at his own casino, the live music is ever upbeat, and Finn and Angela make their way to the dance floor. Billy follows along, wondering which casino harpie might fancy him enough to take home. Salvatore stays behind; he's far too tired and buzzed tonight and he's sure he'll fall flat on his face in front of everyone in attendance. He looks across the booth he's seated in at Albert, who also looks ready to keel over from the strong alcohol he downed. Despite it all, he's still on that drawing of his, which looks nearly completed when Salvatore shifts closer.

"What's with you and that drawing, eh?", Salvatore slurs. Albert looks up slowly, blinking his eyes in a sleepy manner. The man had said that he couldn't handle alcohol and that its effects only made him very sleepy. Salvatore is quite impressed that in this drowsy state, Albert is determined to finish his drawing. As the man quickly shades in outlines of what appears to be skyscrapers, his voice comes out loud enough to be heard over the music that's now in full swing.

"I want to be a cartoonist one of these days, Boss. Got an idea for a comic strip called Icarus from Mars. It's gonna be my third try submitting it to the editor and I get the feeling he's gonna reject it again...but I'm still trying."

Salvatore only nods as he watches Albert sketch a bit more. "How you focus under all this noise beats me, Al."

"It's quite distracting, Boss." Albert suddenly widens his eyes and he drops his pencil to spread his hands out to him in a frantic manner. "Not to say I'm not grateful for you throwin' this shindig for the Family's success, Boss."

Salvatore laughs. It's the first time he's laughed in so long and it's a loud one under the buzz that he's in. It seems to stop Albert dead in his tracks as he just laughs awkwardly with the man. It soon turns genuine when Salvatore tells him the success couldn't have happened had it not been for him.

It's an hour later and Salvatore and Albert have left everyone at the Cabana Room to head back to Albert's small apartment in downtown Chicago. After the glasses of tap water were downed by the both of them and they're both sitting on Albert's sofa, their conversations become serious. Their conversations are about the next score, who's been snitching them off to Chicago's Finest, and what they plan to do if Torrio and his men decide to ambush one of their suppliers. It all ends when Salvatore tells Albert, if Billy isn't fit to lead his empire, to be his second-in-command.

The news makes Albert freeze and Salvatore can see the man's mind has gone blank.

"I like ya, Al. Ya got skills, ya got a bit of charisma when ya wanna show it, ya know how to handle the money better than the other folks in your area, ya don't disappoint." Salvatore is sure of everything he tells Albert.

Albert refuses.

"I appreciate the offer, Boss, but I just want to focus on the money handling for now. I don't think I'd ever be ready for something like that, y'know?" Albert gives Salvatore a careful smile, wondering if this is the right decision to decline. Salvatore tells himself that it's not, but everything running in his head stops when he pulls Albert into a kiss. Albert is frozen and his eyes had gone wide and Salvatore's hold on him isn't too tight so Albert can pull away. Instead, Albert's hands rest gently on his shoulders as Salvatore watches the man's eyes go shut.

He doesn't know what got into him, but it's a few hours later when he wakes up the next day on the same couch. He starts to rise when he looks down to see Albert is still asleep, his head resting on Salvatore's chest. He doesn't know what to do at the moment, but the warmth of the morning light coming from the windows, Albert's soft snoring, and the fact that there's no reason to worry now is tempting enough to go back to sleep. Salvatore and Albert end up waking up around the same time and after going back and forth at what happened, they both decide that they shouldn't say anything about this to anyone and they don't mind this.

It's the whole month of September and everything seems to be falling apart. He's downing more brandy at his office, sick and tired. Salvatore is tired of Chicago's Finest asking for more from him, he's tired of more and more of his men finally getting caught, he's tired of Torrio finally getting the upper hand in this war, and he's sick and tired of Billy and Finn. Billy's last stunt in Manteno has made Salvatore really reconsider if Billy is fit to be the next in command of whatever is left of the DeLuca Crime Family. Finn's mind hasn't been focused on the business ever since Angela came forward to ask for a divorce. Salvatore is sure everything will go farther down at this point, but as he's becoming bitter and bitter, Salvatore looks to his desk at the colorful piece of paper next to his brandy. He feels himself calming down slightly, remembering Albert. While the business was going downhill, Albert was there to give the man a bit of comfort at the ordeal. He really does like him and he's thankful Albert is still here, safe and beside him all the way. He remembers the days he would send Billy off for time off to other parts of Illinois and how he'd use to send Finn off early to be with Angela. Yes, his men were doing their jobs and earned some time away, but spending time with Albert was the main reason he wanted to get rid of them. He remembers the drinks he shared with Albert, those stolen kisses when they felt no one was looking, and their business relationship was the last thing on their mind when they spent time together. After just a month, he knows Albert's ambitions in life, he knows his poor upbringing, his short time at a traveling circus, his fears, his birthday, his love for comics, his favorite food, he knows it all by heart. For the first time in his life, Salvatore returns the favor and it's rather nice to see someone like Albert not even blink when he tells him his own life story. There's understanding between them, respect was given, and the feelings inside Salvatore are enough to declare to Albert that he's proven himself worthy. He remembers the smile Albert gives him before being the one to lean in for a kiss. Salvatore stares at the drawing, a drawing that needs the 'final touches' according to Albert, and he wishes he was here. Salvatore has sent him to Los Angeles for their biggest heist to date, believing that Albert's plan and reason for it may just be enough to turn everything around in their favor. For best of luck, Salvatore asks one of his men to make the journey to LA to give the drawing to Albert.

It's October 11, 1930 and Albert is in a LA hospital. The news makes its way to Salvatore and the details about it all is enough to make him wish he was able to leave Chicago to go see him. He can't as his every movement is being watched closely but he prays that Albert will pull through.

It's November 11, 1931 and it's been thirteen months since Albert was here. Nothing has been getting better and Albert's well-being is still unknown to Salvatore. He's angry and it's far too much for anyone that even Billy and Finn won't go near him. He's clenching the wheel of his car with the woman he has picked up a while ago for no reason but to have a bit of company. She comes off strong and when Salvatore shoots her a glare, she goes off on a rant that no man has ever resisted her charms and she's highly offended. Salvatore, frustrated with everything, pulls over calmly and he chokes her. She fights and she's fighting with all her might, but Salvatore is bigger and heavier that he simply watches her eyes go frantic before they become glazed. He dumps her body right there on the curb before speeding off into the night, his mind on Albert. That same night, he's caught and he doesn't put up a fight.

It's May 14, 1932 and he's been found guilty of murder. His life sentence will be served at Alcatraz.

It's August 3, 1932 and although seeing Billy and Finn's faces made him feel dreadful, the sight of Albert here makes Salvatore only feel pain. He wishes they didn't reunite here. Salvatore does make sure Albert is being looked after, an order given to Billy that does not make the young man happy.

It's April 1, 1933 and Albert has announced a plan to them at breakfast. When Salvatore agrees to help, Billy and Finn are dumbfounded at him. 'How could he agree to somethin' so ridiculous?' Billy says. 'What's gotten into ya, Sal?' Finn says. As the two wait for an answer, Salvatore's eyes are focused on Albert. He hasn't touched his god awful food, but he seems far more quiet than usual. The drawing of Icarus has his full-on attention and Salvatore can clearly see the negative comments written on it. He does not agree with this 'editor' because nobody knows just how much potential is within Albert.

"Cause I got faith in Al." He can see the small curve of a smile when Albert looks up.

It's December 31, 1933 and Salvatore wishes he saw the kind of man Billy and Finn saw all along. A good-for-nothing rat that knew Salvatore's weaknesses and found a way to put his guard down. He wishes he saw his lies, his betrayal, his so called love for him sooner to save himself for what will happen. Salvatore and Albert have snuck past the infirmary and are heading to the stairs that lead up to the rooftop. Salvatore has made the man believe that not only does the ramp have a problem but also he wants to have some time together with him. Albert is walking ahead of him and Salvatore reaches into his pocket to feel the handle of the makeshift knife he has made. Billy and Finn have their own reasons, but for Salvatore, it's all too personal. When Albert reaches the rooftop and knowing full well that Billy and Finn are hiding on either side of the door, Salvatore rushes up from behind and stabs the man first. Billy and Finn join in when they realize Salvatore was not going to stop at the first hit. Salvatore listens to the sounds of the fireworks in the distance as a way to drown out Albert's cries for help. He doesn't care...he doesn't care.

It's January 19, 1934 and Salvatore, along with Billy and Finn, are strapped to their own electric chairs. When asked to give any last words, Billy blurts out a 'Fuck you and the whore your father banged to make ya', Finn remains silent, and all Salvatore can say is:

"Weasel...I fuckin' hate you."

~~~~~

Salvatore gasps for air, dropping the letter on the ground in the process. He looks down at the drawing and he looks immediately at the seagull. He backs away from it, shaking his head.

"Weasel?", Salvatore mumbled, not believing any of this. The seagull looks at him. Salvatore realizes it's stupid to think this seagull could even be Weasel.

"No...", Salvatore says disbelievingly as he backs away far enough to feel the wall against his back. "Weasel's dead."

The seagull suddenly flies from his perch to the other room where the medical exam table was. Salvatore walks in slowly to find the spirit perched on the ribcage; the seagull is looking at him expectantly. Salvatore shakes his head.

"Don't fuckin' play with me. You ain't gonna benefit from it, ya rat with wings!"

The seagull looks at him for a second before looking down at the ribcage. Before Salvatore can angrily tell it to look at him, the spirit seems to seep through the ribcage in an instant. Salvatore watches in shock as the ribcage seems to form a body, a living corpse of man, and Salvatore suddenly wishes he wasn't here. Before him is the corpse of Albert Arlington, pale from the blood loss and his skin is decorated with stab wounds because of him. He sees and remembers the black, swollen eyes Finn gave him and he can see and remember the bite marks Billy left around his neck. He gets closer to the body and he can't help himself when he cups his hand against Albert's swollen cheek, courtesy of Finn.

Suddenly, the eyes that seemed so shut open automatically and Salvatore doesn't realize it until he feels the man's blood caked hand over his formless one. He jumps up but when the body begins to get up slowly, Salvatore can only stand there.

"Why...Sal?", Albert's voice, so distant and hurt, asks him. Salvatore remembers how Albert said the exact same thing at some point during his attack and Salvatore can only shiver. "Why'd you do it?"

"I...", Salvatore's mind goes blank.

Anger. Frustration. Hurt. Having those feelings bottled up inside him had led him to take his anger out on Albert, just like how it made him kill that prostitute. Had he really had any reason to kill Albert? At the time, it made sense and Billy and Finn were fully on board with it. Billy and Finn were just as angry as he was and to change his mind at that point would surely give away their true relationship and they would've most likely turned on him. As Salvatore looks down at the man, not at the damage Billy and Finn made, but at the location of the first stab he made. Though Albert saw the bullet come for Salvatore in front of him, he clearly didn't expect Salvatore to stab him behind him in the same area where the bullet was lodged. Near his heart.

"We--Albert...", Salvatore begins to pull the man close to him, but the body before him disappears and the ribcage clatters back down onto the table. He looks above to see the seagull, to see Albert flying there. He's too far from his reach and he's about to ask him to get down and to become physical again so he can hold him when Albert flies out the room quickly, his squawking rings in Salvatore's ears in a bad way. He wants to follow him, he can most likely meet his speed, but what was he to say to him. What could take away what happened that night? How could it all be forgiven? How could he, Billy, Finn, and Albert finally escape this forsaken place?

A part of him, the 'ask for forgiveness' part, seems to grow and for once during his time here, he listens. Something in him fills him with determination, dare he say hope, as he makes his way to pick up the drawing that Albert has left behind.

It's beautiful. And it's now his to hold.

~~~~~

Salvatore ignores the looks of the fellow spirits he passes as he makes his way to the Cafeteria where he knows Billy and Finn are at. When he sees them, he sits both of them down and he tells them to write. He has given his final order: ask for forgiveness. Billy is the first to object to a 'stupid idea', but when Finn sees the look in Salvatore's eyes, he gets Billy to shut up. When Finn reassures that he will do it and he'll make sure Billy does his part, Salvatore leaves them without another word.

~~~~~

As he finishes up his letter, hoping that what he has written may be enough, he hears the sound of a seagull outside his barred up window. He looks quickly just to catch a glimpse of him. He was clearly looking into his room and Salvatore can only walk to the bars, clutching them as he watches Albert fly far away. There's a long road ahead between them and a simple letter won't be enough to ask Albert to forgive him, but Salvatore knows it's a start.

He has faith in both of them now. 

~~~~~

Had a blast writing this and I'm hoping to start on the next requests! Hope y'all enjoyed.

Request was from NedLuke1958