withoutverona | A Small Town Outside Verona, Italy, March 18

It had been three hard days of travel, and Romeo had sold near everything save his clothing and his gun to raise the costs of the trip, desperately hoping he would do something that was worth it. He wasn't sure how, but somehow everyone in Italy could tell he was an outsider, and charged him correspondingly higher prices. And then there had been the confusion over who, exactly, he wanted. Montague, it turned out, was French, an Ellis Island change; the family name in Italy was Montecchi.

After all of it, though, Romeo was here at what he assumed had to be his great-great-grandfather's home. He squinted at it; it seemed awfully ... small, smaller than he had imagined, and there was a pen of squealing pigs right next to the stucco farmhouse. Nothing smelled terribly good.

But all greatness starts somewhere, and Romeo had to assume this was where part of his family's story started. Tentatively, he knocked on the wooden front door.

	After a minute - and some cursing in Italian, from inside the small house - the door swung open. The man scratched at his goatee and looked at the kid standing on his doorstep. Didn't know him. Something almost familiar about him, though. Weird. "//You need something?//" Angelo Montecchi asked.
	Romeo tried to look humble, though how very familiar the man looked did unsettle him yet more. //Only a moment of your time, sir. Are you Signor Montecchi?// His Italian was passable, though marked with an American accent and not as good as he thought it was.
	//Who's asking?// the man said, narrowing his eyes. Had to watch your back. Didn't do to get too cocky, not when this kid might be some hotshot trying to prove himself.
	//A friend,// Romeo answered. //I have information he would want to hear.//
	Angelo eyed the kid again. Not too much of a threat. And he hadn't pissed anyone off lately. If he did, they wouldn't send some punk who was still wet behind the ears. //Then he'd better come in,// Angelo said, opening the door wider and stepping aside.
	Romeo blinked; it was less that he hadn't expected the invitation, and more that he was still adjusting to the fact of being here. He ducked his head slightly in thanks as he stepped through the door. The inside of the house was dingy, really one big room with a coal-burning stove in one corner, an incongruously ornate sofa shoved opposite it, and a wooden table and chairs at the center of the room. A ladder lead up to a sleeping area overhead. Fidgeting, he decided not to sit, at least not for now. //I came from America,// he began, by way of explanation. //I heard you were planning to sail sometime soon.//
	Angelo hesitated - but if the kid knew already, couldn't hurt to confirm it. Wasn't much of a secret. //Next month,// he nodded. //I got some connections. They've got a job waiting for me. You looking for work?/
	//Not right now,// Romeo said, waving it off. And then he hesitated. Somehow, he'd imagined everything about this scene except what he would actually say, what the magic words would be that changed the future but not too much, not so much he faded out of existence. (Though, if he could save Mercutio and Juliet, and stop the other deaths that had marked his childhood, what great cosmic loss was it if he had never been born?) He started talking as he pondered this, and what finally came out was, //Don't go to California. They hate us there.// ... which was slightly accurate, if misleading and incomplete.
	Angelo tensed, something in his face subtly shifting. //You got news for me?// he asked, lowering his voice. //Someone wants my spot, I should watch my back?// He didn't quite get why the kid was using "us" like they were friends, but if the kid wanted to play guardian angel, he wasn't going to put up a fuss. Someone got a conscience, someone ratted out, someone's life got saved and someone else got a slit throat. It happened.
	//No ... I mean, I don't know.// Romeo was hesitant again, becoming frustrated. He decided to throw out any hope of seeming sane and just tell the truth. No other story would make sense, and the man seemed receptive enough, if not exactly friendly. //Don't ask me to explain this,// he said, pacing a little, //but we're family, and I came a long way to tell you this, all right? So just listen, even if I sound nuts.//
	They were kin, that explained a lot. Why the kid had come all this way. Why he almost kinda looked like Angelo's kid brother, around the eyes. Angelo relaxed some. Kin could still put a knife in your back, but it made this kid less of a risk than he'd been a minute ago. //I'm listening,// he said. //Go ahead.//
	//After you get to California,// Romeo explained, also relaxing a little, //you're going to meet somebody. Another immigrant, I guess Italian. Last name will be something like Capulet. I don't know when he gets there or why this happens, but you're going to get into a fight with him. Big fight.// He looked directly into Angelo's eyes, now, and recognizing that blue was unsettling. //If that happens, people will die. For years and years and years. Generations. So could you stay away from him?//
	//You're saying ...// This was all making his head hurt. But the kid said he was gonna sound crazy, so he was gonna push that aside for a second and deal with the heart of the matter, here. //You're saying I should stay here, and not go to the New World, because some punk's gonna mess with me and get what's coming to him?//
	//Don't stay here,// Romeo said, a note of worry in his tone. It would have been so easy to say yes, but he wanted to be born, and not on this pig farm. //Just ... don't give him what's coming to him. You're better than that.// Which was unlikely, but appealing to vanity never hurt.
	//What's it to you if I do?// Angelo asked, leaning back in his chair. //Maybe the family's gone soft on your side of it, but I can handle some upstart. And I don't take kindly to those that mess with me and mine.//
	Romeo hadn't planned to play this card, but if he was asked ... He reached for his wallet and flipped out the picture of Juliet as a bride. //Her,// he said hollowly. //She's in it for me. She dies because no one will back down.//
	Angelo stared, wondering how the kid had gotten someone to paint his picture. He'd heard they were doing something with colors, to photographs, but everyone had said they were dull and blurry. This looked almost real. He shook his head. //She's pretty,// he said. //Look, kid, we protect our own. As far as I'm concerned, that means you, and if she's yours, her, too. Someone sent you here? They holding her, unless you come here and scare me off? Trust Angelo. Tell me where she is, we bust her out, we break some heads.//
	//She's in a grave a hundred years and an ocean away,// Romeo said, a little loudly even as he tried to control himself. It seemed the family tendency to fight went back a while. //The only way to free her -- and not just her, others -- friends -- is for things to be so that she would not die. I'm from her time, I know how this all ends.// Lowering his voice again, he added, //I warned you this was a strange story.//
	Angelo looked over the kid for a few seconds. Then he frowned. //Who sent you?// he asked, in a harsher voice.
	//An angel,// Romeo answered honestly. //Truly.//
	An angel. Angelo went to Mass every week. That, he could believe. //Is He mad?// Angelo asked, nervously. //I done some bad things but I --// They were interrupted by Angelo noticing a woman, standing next to the ladder, her hair disheveled and a baby in her arms. //Maria,// he said sharply. //What did I tell you?// //An angel?// she asked, looking between them. //He was sent by an angel?// //I told you to stay upstairs!// Angelo stood up, glaring at the woman.
	Romeo froze, trying to look as innocuous as he could while surreptitiously eying the woman. She had to be his great-great-grandmother, right? And the baby would be ... This was getting even weirder. //I don't talk to Him, any more than you do,// he said quietly. //It was a statue of an angel. It came to life and sent me here. That's all I know.//
	//You came here,// Maria said, ignoring her husband and approaching Romeo with something approaching awe. //He coughs, he cries, nothing helps,// she continued, her eyes tired and red-rimmed. //I prayed all morning and you have come, to heal him.// Angelo stepped forward and grabbed her upper arm. //Maria,// he hissed. //I told you.//
	Romeo didn't even want to try to talk right now; he was, frankly, trying not to shake from the pressure of her expectations. He glanced desperately at Angelo, not sure what to say to the woman. //I'm sorry,// he finally croaked, hands behind his back so it wouldn't seem he tried to touch the baby.
	//Maria,// Angelo said again, and this time his tone was threatening. She pleaded -- //for Paolo, Angelo// -- but let him usher her back up the ladder again. //Superstitious nonsense,// he grumbled, taking a seat and eying Romeo again. //Who really sent you, kid?//
	//I told you, no one save the angel statue,// Romeo swore, glad the desperate woman was gone. //I mean you no harm, I just wanted to try and save some sorrow in the world.//
	//By telling me I should lay off some guy. He's out in this New World, where you are, and you want me to not go there, or if I go, play nice with him.// Angelo glared. //How much did he pay you?//
	//No one paid me,// Romeo said. //Look, if I just wanted to scare you off, couldn't I come up with a better story? Or just threaten to break your kid's legs or something?// He may not have been thinking clearly by then.
	Angelo stood up so quickly it was almost a blur. //Get out of my house,// he growled.
	Romeo didn't need to be told twice, and anger flashed in his eyes before he stepped through the rough-hewn door. //I tried to warn you,// he said. // Remember that.I did all I could.// He echoed his leaving words in English once he was outside, sad but not especially surprised -- another grand plan fallen apart, as they so often did for him, and so Romeo remained Romeo. He'd just have to beg his way back to Paris and hope to find someone from Fandom again, or find work in Montmartre if not. "All I could."
	Angelo watched as the door shut, clenching his hands into fists, and then stormed up to make sure Maria and Paolo were okay. This is why he told them to stay put, and Maria couldn't ever listen. Angelo Montecchi didn't take guff from punk kids. He was going to the New World, and this Capulet fellow better watch out for him. He was gonna be somebody.

[OOC: NFB, NFI, and a very special thanks to

the_merriest for being my Angelo. OOC = love.]

A Small Town Outside Verona, Italy, March 18

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