Disclaimer: I don't own a single aspect of Assassin's Creed.
This fic was originally posted on my deviantArt page.
To witness love was to witness humankind's greatest miracle.
It was a joy to touch, a joy to behold. It was a soft, sweet treasure that enabled humans to reach new heights. Love was a miracle that brought the weakest souls to life, filling their lungs with oxygen. It painted moons across horizons, stars across endless fields, and rivers across parched deserts. Civilization thrived off love, for it was an essential to time's passage. Not a single soul could exist without love's touch, regardless of their path.
However, many wished they could live without it. Many wished they could discard it, just as easily as they could discard old food. Love was a treasure, but at the same time, it was a devastating curse. It was a plague that riddled every last one of their days, making it difficult to decipher time's strange flow. It was an epidemic that made it difficult to breathe, one that needed to be erased in order for life to continue.
But without the plague, the rest of their lives without be an empty void.
Their world was already immersed in the darkest peril, pursued by beasts without mercy. The Borgia army were intent on annihilating the known world, passionate about spreading their visions to the moon. Their strength knew no end, elevating even as the sun slept. The chosen harbingers of fate had gathered underneath the moon, working to prevent the Borgia's ascent to eternal fortune, but their goals were in danger. Their very dreams were in danger.
And a few hearts were in grave danger, lying on the brink of destruction.
Their paths should've been smooth, as they were laden with love's serene glow. But love was not as serene as it should've been. It was a plague that riddled their lives with guilt-even more so than the Borgia army. An assassin lived between guilt and sorrow, believing he'd never be able to end his nightmare. Both sides of his nightmare stared at dead-ends, feeling lost and trapped. Enclosed in a certain heart, just as small animals were enclosed inside of cages.
Night had fallen so many times, and with each descent came grief. The Brotherhood was on the verge of ruin, torn and devastated by the Borgia. Time's passage seemed to be kind to the Borgia, as their numbers grew over every second-and the assassins felt the deepest of losses. The Sanctuary was their only refuge-at least until it was discovered by Italy's wicked sovereigns. However, there wasn't any peace to be found betwixt its kind walls.
The Brotherhood's Master, barely emerging from a conference, slumped his back against a wall. Rain tore apart the world outside, battering his brothers and sisters as they molded their skills. He couldn't think of lifting the blade, as his mind was submerged in the cold fathoms of impenetrable sorrow. Italy's softest, most beautiful diamond had just withdrawn from his presence, no longer wishing to be near him.
After all of their years together, their time had come to an end. And thinking of that end hurt him.
Daggers buried themselves deep into his heart, plaguing him with every thought of Leonardo. Rodrigo Borgia himself couldn't have been any stronger. Sorrow was a tremendous force, working to rid Ezio's body of oxygen. Breathing was nearly impossible as he thought of Leonardo, the kindest, warmest soul in all of Italy. A gentle, beautiful pearl with a Spring rose's magic. His artist, his lifelong friend and lover, had been a star so beautiful, his light shamed the heavens.
And now his star, that beautiful, glowing light, was gone.
Damn everything. Damn his existence, his choices, his life, his name. Damn everything. He just had to comfort the fallen Lorenzo de Medici. He just had to befriend Lorenzo. Just had to flatter Lorenzo. Damn his bloody heart! He just had to be that close to Lorenzo! Yes, his empire had fallen, and his name had been soiled with blood, but did he have to-
Ugh. Did he have to abandon Leonardo over Lorenzo's vulnerability? Did he have to be such an ass? And towards Italy's leaflet, of all people! Why was Giovanni forced to have such a mindless whelp for a son? Couldn't Federico have a wiser brother, even as he soared amongst the other angels? And what of Petruccio, the poor little dear? Was his entire family doomed to have an idiot under their name?
Yes, Lorenzo needed him. The heartbroken, shattered soul needed a friend-a companion. The Master Assassin was his sole source of comfort, even as he carried a friendship with Leonardo. The fallen Medici constantly looked to Ezio for guidance, kindness, compassion-
-and apparently the one treasure Leonardo sought from Ezio.
Leonardo was gone. Gone, gone, gone.
After all of their years together, he was gone. He had vanished, just like a dream. Vanished, just as dandelion fluff floated upon the cold winds.
Leonardo had said so many things, shouted so many things, but Ezio couldn't remember any of them. It hurt to even think of Leonardo's face, as it was strained by so much anguish. Taut with so much pain, confusion, sadness. Italy's sweetest pearl had the face of an abandoned child, discarded after living in the happiest home. Giovanni's son had seen similiar facial expressions before, all on the faces of enraged courtesans, but none of them were deadly. None of them tore his soul in half.
None of the courtesans were Leonardo da Vinci.
Time was certainly not one of his greatest allies. At the worst imaginable time, Leonardo just had to see Lorenzo in his arms. And within a single second, Leonardo shredded Ezio's heart with a single look. Rodrigo nor Cesare could create a blade stronger than the inventor's eyes. The Master Assassin would've preferred being stabbed into a premature death, over seeing the other male's broken heart.
But there wasn't anything he could do. Leonardo was gone, all gone. Ezio could not remember the artist's last words, but he was gone-and would never turn back.
Gone, gone, gone. Missing from his life, just as so many of his family members were. Mario, Federico, his father, Petruccio-and now Leonardo.
Gone gone gone.
He slumped to the floor, disregarding all thoughts of the Borgia. Disregarding even the robes of a Master Assassin, which were symbols of his leadership. Into his palms he buried his eyes, submerged in a world no human should've seen. Submerged in the illimitable rain only true sorrow could bring.
He slumped to the floor, no longer Italy's greatest legend but the shivering, helpless colt he had been so many years ago-the day Uberto massacred his age of peace.
_
Leonardo and Ezio weren't the only ones entangled in disaster.
It might have been a coincidence, but two modern assassins were also at each other's throats. The maiden assassins could only watch as their friends throttled each other, giving the other no quarter-let alone a moment of peace. Their vast differences placed both of them on thin ice, making it incredibly difficult to see any light at the end of the tunnel.
Lucy and Rebecca did everything in their power to end snowstorms, but the storms continued without a designated end. Shaun and Desmond pounced on each other as soon as they entered the main hub, unable to even breathe in the other's presence. Shaun ridiculed Desmond over his lack of intelligence, manners and savage demeanor, while Desmond snapped Shaun's head off over pretty much everything.
The developing tale between Ezio, Leonardo and Lorenzo tempered the flames between them, giving all a chance to relax. To witness love's birth was to witness life's greatest miracle, and that particular miracle draped blankets about their hearts. Sadly, the apex of Ezio's tale served to only worsen things. The grand adventure nourished the flames between two assassins-in ways not even the assassins themselves understood. Shaun acknowledged the foundation of his flames, but refused to share even an inch of that foundation with Desmond, in fear of being ridiculed further.
Shortly after Leonardo delivered his final words to Ezio, Desmond delivered what seemed to be the fatal blow to Shaun.
"It's no wonder your life's been so fucked up! You got everything you deserved at Abstergo's hands, you freakin' bastard!"
After those lovely words, revealing anything to Desmond would've been akin to performing the Chicken Dance. So Shaun used another one of his available options. He bolted out of the main hub in silence, pursued by only the motherly, forever kind Lucy. Rebecca threw daggers at a sheepish, fuming Desmond, and the rest of the night went up in flames.
Lucy didn't know if there was a direct link between Ezio, Leonardo, and her two friends. It was awfully strange to see Desmond and Shaun tearing each other apart, while Ezio and Leonardo were having the worst of troubles. Desmond hadn't cheated on Shaun with anyone (they weren't even a couple yet, for crying out loud), but their stories were quite similiar. Shaun couldn't deal with Desmond's hot head, Desmond seemed to be incompatible with Shaun, and everything was just a bloody freakin' mess.
She could only hope for the best. She could only hope for a light at the end of the tunnel, even though the tunnel was so painfully long.
_
Night arrived in all of its sorrowful, enigmatic glory. Rain splattered against windowpanes, painting a cerulean blue portrait of tender emotion. All of the world's creatures, including the youngest of fireflies, were detached from the world's silent storm. Tucked away in their dreams, they slept as several creatures continued down their chosen path. Slept as hearts continued to throb, drowning underneath the most savage emotions.
Footsteps fell into the main hub, emitting shyness so intense, it devastated its wielder. Shaun knew who they belonged to, but struggled to pay very little attention. Not only were there more Truth files to decode, but Ezio's Mercurial Moon blade was quite interesting. The blade had been created by the one and only Leonardo da Vinci, given to the assassin in a celebration of love. Ezio had been over-the-moon about receiving such a phenomenon, not just happy to own a new weapon but thrilled over his lover's offering. Its crevices, hilt and strength were far and beyond astounding, most likely able to cut through the moon itself. How any human could create such a treasure was beyond him.
How any human could put up with 'love' was beyond him.
Leonardo, Leonardo, Leonardo. Shaun was definitely on his side. The poor, sweet thing had been used and then discarded, ruined by a bloody assassin's appetite for sex! Ezio could run himself off a cliff, for all he cared! The bloody annoying git didn't deserve to live, having used Leonardo in such a horrific way. Ezio could apologize until he was blue in the face, but none of it would matter! Oh, if only Rodrigo could run him through with a javelin, or a spear, or-
"Hey there. Clutch that cup any tighter, and you'll find yourself without tea."
Ignoring his past wishes to uphold a quiet, calm demeanor, Shaun ignored Desmond's words. His mug quickly shattered in a dozen pieces, drenched in lukewarm tea-and gripped into an early death by their previous owner. "Good evening, Mr. Miles," the historian growled, unwittingly slamming both palms onto his desktop. His body quivered as he struggled to remain still, inwardly wishing he could tear Desmond's head clear off his shoulders.
"How may I help you? Shall I provide you with more amusement?"
Holding his hands up in submission, Desmond backed away from the other with a frail smile. "No thanks," he replied instantly, voice wrapped up in sadness, warmth and shyness. "I didn't come here to start any more sideshows. And in the future, would you mind not calling me Mr. Miles? It gives me the creeps."
The historian shot out of his seat, no longer able to contain himself-and wishing he could wrap his hands around Desmond's neck. "You've got some bloody nerve, telling me what to do! I'll call you whatever I like, you disgusting sack of shit!"
The raven assassin grimaced, feeling arrows penetrate his heart. "Okay okay," he said, hands still up in surrender. "I deserved that."
"You'd better state your case, or else you'll find yourself devoid of a few parts, and we'll make do with another client for the Animus!"
Sheesh. Now I know how Ezio felt, listening to Leonardo!
"Don't kill me, all right? Just give me a few seconds! Please!"
Shaun seemed to respect his wish for a longer life, but still wasn't the least bit happy. "You had no right to use that against me," the Hastings snarled, halfway between fury and the greatest sorrow. "No right whatsoever! No one should ever wish such a horrific fate upon another human being! I never would've wished that on you, you unholy wretch!"
Desmond had his verbal arsenal ready, wanting to defend the choices he had made, but unlike Ezio, he couldn't run. Shaun was there, right there, on the verge of tears. He had done something awful, hurting such a tender soul. There was no way he could possibly defend what he had done. Shaun's time at Abstergo had almost killed him, but he said Shaun deserved everything. And by doing so, he almost crushed a frail leaflet into nothingness.
He committed the same crime Ezio had committed against Leonardo.
Even though they hadn't spent a great deal of time together, they were still close. Not only through the modern Creed, but through other things. Through emotion, thought and desire. And so Desmond was guilty-guilty of sending a gentle creature to the brink of insanity. He was surprised to see Shaun hadn't run off, just as Leonardo did in an attempt to leave Ezio behind forever.
What could he do? He couldn't defend himself. Not against the revival of horrific, hellish trauma. Shaun had told Rebecca and Lucy of his time with Abstergo, unwraveling the darkest tale of his life. He listened in as the Hastings revealed every aspect of his captivity, starting right from the very beginning. Shaun would've kissed Vidic before revealing anything to Desmond, but he had to tell someone. And the two maidens happened to be the perfect confidants.
Neither Rebecca or Lucy would've used his captivity against him. Ever.
"Listen. I know we haven't been the best of friends, and I'm sorry, but you had no right to do that to me! I didn't ask for any of that! It never should've happened!"
"I know," a quiet colt said, bowing his head. Eyes glistening with unborn tears, he absorbed Shaun's words and emotion-even though doing so was akin to boiling in a vat of scorching hot water. As a brokenhearted soul, wracked with guilt, he awaited further punishment. One wouldn't have been surprised to see handcuffs around his hands. But Shaun seemed intent on expelling him from the room.
"Why don't you leave me alone? I've got a lot of business to finish, if you don't mind! I'll be seeing you soon enough anyway!"
It took everything in him to keep from crying. He had to exert every last inch of willpower to keep all tears from falling. However, he could do nothing for his voice. "I'm not finished yet," he said, lifting his head. Speaking around a tremendous lump of steel, he stared Shaun right in the eyes. "I haven't said what I've come here to say."
Ah. He must've had some luck on his side. Shaun said nothing, staring at him with folded arms. Face tightened by fury, he unleashed a barricade of daggers with each breath. "Huh," the Miles said, in a weak attempt to add cheer to the atmosphere. "It's like I'm giving off my last speech or something, standing before the guillotine."
"You might as well be."
"Ha ha ha. Funny."
The most awkward period of silence passed, and then Desmond pressed on. "Listen," he said, hands wrestling against one another. Face burning from shyness, eyes burning from unshed sadness. "I shouldn't have said what I said, but I did, and its because I'm a jackass sometimes. What I did was wrong and I know that. I made myself out to be no better than Vidic."
He took Rebecca's nearby seat, inwardly thrilled over the loss of immense danger. Right on contact, Shaun wished to whack his head clear off. He apparently managed to gain some ground. "I didn't mean any of it," he said, placing his hands on his lap. Voice and heart still laced in sorrow. "I haven't meant anything I've said to you. Things...things have only been weird because...well, in case you haven't noticed, I'm...I feel like I'm becoming other people. I'm living other lives, and its...its just weird, you know?"
Hallelujah, Desmond's heart sang. Shaun's face softened, infusing the greatest joy into the other male's heart. "I really am sorry," the Miles went on, also overjoyed to lose the lump in his throat. Not having an axe held over his head relieved him. "Its just...well, before now, I never really had any friends. Never had any family. I don't know what its like to be surrounded by all of this," he said, outstretching his arms in reference to the sanctuary.
Truthfully, he was referring to his relationships with Lucy, Rebecca and-
"I haven't exactly romped through flower fields myself, but...I shouldn't have taken anything out on you. I've beaten myself up a thousand times over what happened, and I'm sorry. And while I'm at it, I've got something else to tell you."
What? Shaun's doe-like eyes asked, devoid of their former fire. Devoid of the intent to kill, thank goodness.
"This might be kinda weird, considering everything that has happened between us, but..."
"Well, what is it? Out with it, you idiotic primeape!"
The historian's laughter was a glowing, refreshing stream of bubbling sunshine, touched by Autumn's golden leaves. Desmond, despite overwhelming embarrassment, found himself smiling. "I've never done this before, to tell you the truth," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Ahhh...see, the thing is, I...I like you."
"Not as a friend, I'm guessing?"
"You're right," the Miles replied, and his face couldn't have been any redder. Crimson flames deepened once Shaun burst into melodious, captivating laughter.
"I'm sorry to tell you this, Desmond, but you've had a horrible way of showing it!"
"I know, I know," a smiling assassin said, beaming from ear to ear. "Just thought I should get that out in the open. For the record. Oh, and just so you know, you don't have to...you know. Like me. I couldn't care less if you'd rather shack up with a fat, old guy named Monroe. I like you, Shaun. To tell you the truth, I'm actually in love with you."
"Why you bloody blaggard-!"
"Hey! No throwing in the sanctuary! Lucy said so!"
"I can throw whatever I wish, mind you!"
"Fine, its your loss! Those aren't my plushies!"
"They aren't just plushies, thank you very much! They're one of a kind collector's items!"
"I don't care what they are! You're still a nerd!"
"Ugh," Shaun groaned, clutching his final Star Wars plushie to his chest. Darth Vader had a safe haven, but Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia were forced to sleep on the cold floor.
"Why don't you make yourself useful and get me some tea?"
"Tea tea tea," the raven assassin groaned, rolling his eyes. "And for your information, tea's out of the picture! You ruined your damn cup!"
"I'm sure we've got a spare around here somewhere," the Hastings sang, returning to his seat. "Now leave me alone. The Truth can't untangle itself, you know."
Scooping up Luke and Leia, Desmond pretended to scowl. He returned to the two plushies to their owner's desk, glancing at Shaun as he went further into cryptic labyrinthes. With a playfully furious sigh, the Miles rolled his eyes and walked off-but stopped once Shaun spoke.
"Oh, and for the record? I'm not into fat old geezers. I'm more into the moronic, get-on-your-last-nerve type."
Desmond couldn't have been happier, strolling down the hallway. He wished to either fly or break into song, feeling as if his entire life had been transformed into a musical. The transformation might have been temporary, and the night would soon end, but the night was beautiful nonetheless.
And it was a joyous night. One filled with invigorating magic.
"Oh, I've got you in beaten in spades, Ezio," the Miles muttered, snickering as he waltzed into the kitchen. "Too bad you don't have my brains, dumbass."
Meanwhile, the team's historian continued to untangle The Truth-feeling much lighter, happier and warmer than he had ever felt his entire life.