It was not long after stepping over the threshold of the Templar lair that Ezio had been bombarded, limbs bound and blindfolded, and after much swearing and threatening, he had even been gagged. However, the fact that whoever had captured him did not speak the entire time frustrated and discomforted him, but he had no ability to lash out at them. Not anymore.

As they secured him to the ground with shackles, chains, and weights, he snarled as they yanked the cover off his eyes, and the brisk movement combined with the suddenness of light that attacked his eyes made him whimper and recoil. Soon, his vision was guarded by a tall figure, and as the shade became evident behind his eyelids, he turned to try and focus on them. The long period of disuse had made everything blurry.

"So then," came the voice, and the slight familiarity made Ezio want to focus earlier then nature would allow, "this is what it has come down to? You and I? It is pathetically ironic." Before Ezio could even completely sharpen his vision, he knew who he was addressing. He tried to speak around the cloth in his mouth, but his words were muffled and illegible. "Oh, yes… Mi dispiace. I had nearly forgotten." He knelt down gracefully and began untying the knot that was secured behind his head, and Ezio savored the moment by sucking in a deep, forgotten gasp of air. The man before him did not speak, and instead stood silently, staring him down.

"L-Leonar…" His voice fell into an inaudible whisper. He couldn't finish the words; his eyes had finally made a clear picture before him, and the very look in the eyes of the painfully familiar man before him made him shiver and ache. "T-This is what has become of you. I had heard rumors and even formed my own suspicions. I refused to believe them." The sharp "Ha!" that passed through Leonardo's lips was enough to shatter a man's will, but Ezio still had his assassin-trained nerves, and even the sliver of hope that his friend may lie just beneath the surface of this imposter was enough to keep him going.

"That is a foolish move, Ezio. I expected better of you – of an assassin."

"You expected me, your amico caro, to readily accept the theory of your being a Templar? I thought it a tall tale." Leonardo lowered himself to Ezio's height, stooping to the ground and balancing himself with his hands. They met gazes, and Ezio noticed that all charm and affability he had seen in the artist's eyes had vanished. The absolute void of anything joyful disturbed him. Any other vengeful banter fell from his mind, and he quickly became concerned. "W-Who is holding sway over you?" he rasped, moving his hands to speak but remembering that they must move as one, and only so far. They were chained together and bound to the floor. At least he had some movement, and it was enough to reach out and grab at the toe of Leonardo's boot. The artist didn't flinch, but he glanced briefly at the touch.

"Ezio—"

"I will kill them. Y-You don't have to be this way. If it is a man bribing you and threatening you, amico mio, then release me and I will—"

"You jump to conclusions too quickly." Ezio's eyes scanned Leonardo's face for some hint as to what his answer might've been, but saw nothing. It was cold, emotionless, save for the subtle squint of his eyes.

"So there is nobody holding you in line with the Templars?"

"Not quite. It is simply that I will not allow you to kill anybody, whether your statement is true or not." Ezio fought against the bonds on his wrists, trying desperately to get some movement, but as he clawed for Leonardo's foot, he was surprised when the man shifted it forward and let him cling to his ankle.

"If you will not have me kill them, at least tell me who it is. I will do as you please and not end them, but I must know. My conscious will not be clear." Leonardo laughed, and it was slow and deep, a noise the assassin had never heard from him before. He lifted his boot and yanked it out of Ezio's weak grip before he slammed it back onto the ground, crushing a few of his fingers in the process. The young assassin cried out in pain at the sudden movement.

"Why must you always try to be the hero, Ezio?" he inquired, budging his knee under his chin and pushing his gaze straight up to his. "You are assuming things before I have even made the facts known. Will you not at least hear me out before you spout out this drivel?"

"Something has to have possessed you! You cannot have switched personalities so completely in such a short amount of time." Leonardo laughed again, shorter and sharper, before grounding his heel into Ezio's palms, causing him to groan and wince.

"Short? It has been years, Ezio. Years without seeing your face or hearing your voice, but I have not been unaware of what you've done. Your so-called 'fame' as it were has spread like wildfire. I believe I heard status reports on your business merely hours after such events happened." He dragged his muddy shoe back on to the ground, smearing grime and dirt on Ezio's skin. He began pacing around him, having the impudence to reach out and run a hand through Ezio's hair, fingers scratching against his scalp before stopping just above the leather strap that tied it all together. "You did not bother to keep in contact with me. I saw no justice."

"If I had only known—"

"I had no guidance! Cesare Borgia offered me a distraction, and it was a simple one." Ezio shook his head, and the movement made him realize that Leonardo's fingertips had not left the back of his head, despite his having walked back nearly in front of him.

"I was a foolish, young man who—"

"You were quite so—"

"Do not interrupt me!" he snapped, trying to lift himself off the ground and smack the man. He had to seriously wonder if this was, indeed, the Leonardo he had known. However, upon his yelling, he saw a brief and short-lived glimmer in his eyes that showed a sudden look of shock from his tone. It was covered so quickly that he wondered if it had just been his eyes playing tricks on him. "What I did was unforgivable." He waited, almost expecting Leonardo to interrupt him, but thankfully he remained silent. "I should not have just left and not said anything to you. I should have warned you."

"You think that is what is bothering me?" he asked, voice quiet and strangely unthreatening. He knelt down in front of Ezio, giving a look of slight concern. It was increasingly difficult to tell if the look was honest. "Ezio, I love you, and I have always believed you to be a very intelligent young man, but to think that that is what drove me to join the Templars – your enemies – is self-righteous and juvenile. It was nothing to do with you." Somehow, the words stung. In a way, Ezio had wished that it would be because of him that this had all happened. His fault, somehow.

"If it is not my fault, then please, it must be somebody's."

"Please?" Leonardo laughed, but did not draw the topic out further. "It never has to be because of something somebody did, Ezio. Just because that is how your little scenario panned out does not mean it applies to me, as well." Ezio struggled against the bonds, but, as before, could not get any closer to the traitor. Leonardo stared down at his hands as they twisted and flexed, begging to be released. Instead of giving him what he wanted, he reached his own hands down and held the assassin's, not meeting his eyes. "You are acting like a child," he whispered, before snapping his gaze back to Ezio, eyes snakelike and sinister. The soft tone of his voice was horrifyingly contradicting to the look on his face, and it made Ezio quickly attempt to recoil his hands, but Leonardo had retained a firm, nearly painful hold on them.

"Leonardo, your behavior is such an opposite of what you used to be, I am only convinced that it must've been somebody's fault that you are like this. I have never seen you act like this." When he tried to remove his hands again, Leonardo pressed down between his fingers and thumb and pressed into Ezio's knuckles. He groaned in pain and bent his arms, trying to get them out of his grip, instinctively flicking his wrists to release hidden blades that were no longer there. "I hate how you pretend to be kind, and then you ruin it with these acts of torture—"

"You have done the very same. Perhaps not to me, but to others. To your targets." He squeezed harder into Ezio's hands, and as the assassin cried out and tried to jerk his hands away, he felt bones pop and bubble beneath his fingers. "You are no different then the very thing you hunt to destroy!"
"That is a lie!" Ezio roared, voice breaking with a pained sob. Leonardo knew every muscle, every bone, how everything connected and what purpose everything served. If anybody was going to make him ache because of pressure in various spots of the body, it was going to be Leonardo, and it was a pity that Ezio had to be his test subject. His fingers dug into his metacarpal bones, his flexor digitorum profundis, his lumbrical muscles. Ezio would not have known any of this if it were not for Leonardo commenting about it, questioning if it hurt there. Ezio only spat out a bitter, "As if I should know! I don't even know where you're talking about!" Finally, he released his hands, but the pain still seared into Ezio's digits, shooting up through his wrist. He whimpered as he balled his hands into fists as if to reassure himself that he still had control of his muscles and they hadn't been torn apart.

"I believed, at first, that perhaps you would've been able to muscle your way through that. I am both disappointed and slightly unsurprised that you couldn't hold your tongue or stop your squirming." Ezio began violently jerking about, attempting even harder then before to get free. If fury were a substance, it would've been leaking out of every pore that Ezio had. Leonardo stepped back and opened a chest, and though the assassin heard and registered the noise, he did not stop to inspect what was going on. Even when he returned with whatever it was he had retrieved, his yanking and pulling did not cease. It took a final knee to the chin to make him stop, and as Leonardo dealt the blow, Ezio groaned and fell to his side, already slightly fatigued from the effort to escape.

"I-I… I considered you my most treasured friend." Leonardo only snorted, and Ezio began to focus on what he was doing as he kneeled next to him, what he was holding, only to realize that he was draining the poison Codex blade of its deadly liquid and pouring it into a small vial. "You were a piece of my past that I couldn't bare to let go, something from a time where everything was okay."

"And now I have crushed all of your dreams and fantasies," Leonardo added in an almost bored tone. "Spare me the pity party, amico—"

"No. I am not your amico." Leonardo raised a brow.

"Tesoro, then." Ezio scoffed,

"Absolutely not." Leonardo shrugged and carelessly tossed the weapon aside, taking a small suction and sucking a droplet of poison out of the bottle. He held it over Ezio's face and gave him a look that, though listless, was slightly intimidating.

"Open your mouth, per favore." Ezio would've laughed and told him he was a moron for thinking he would do such a foolish thing for him, but he decided against it and instead kept his mouth sealed shut. Without missing a beat, though, Leonardo grabbed for his face and shoved his thumb in between his lips, prying his jaw open even as Ezio tried to bite down on the intruding finger. Deftly, the drop was administered into his mouth, and Ezio attempted to cough it back out and force saliva into his mouth to spit it onto the ground, but it was hard to say what exactly had happened in the end.

"What was that for? Surely you do not intend to poison me."

"Well, if that is what happens, then sure. However, my main intent was to give you the most miniscule of doses, just enough to take your edge off, and perhaps have you speaking nothing but truths." Ezio growled and shook his head, but the move was limited as he was still against the ground, and the shifting made dust blow into his eyes.

"All I have been doing this whole time has been telling you the truth. Perhaps it is you who should be taking this."

"I have been completely honest, as well."

"Then I suppose we have come to an impasse."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps now you will start telling truths as I begin to interrogate and question you on the whereabouts of the Pieces of Eden?" Ezio laughed as he sat up, meeting Leonardo face to face.

"After these years of pretending to be friends with me, you have not got even the slightest idea? Not after all those Codex pages you deciphered?"

"You had it last, you idiota. You hid it. However, you will tell me where."

"I will not."

"You will." The way Leonardo had spat it almost convinced the assassin that he would somehow, by the end of this whole ordeal, have told him everything that he refused to say at the present. "You always do. Now, I will return in a moment. I hope you—" His words were cut off as Ezio lurched quickly forward, hooking his chin into the dip of Leonardo's shoulder and managing to catch him off-guard and throw him to the ground, where he then slammed him against it with his whole body, barely pinning him down.

"Go nowhere. You leave me alone, and when you come back, I will have escaped." Truthfully, he completely doubted that such a hope would happen. Whatever Leonardo had used to bind him was too strong even for him and escaping was unlikely.

"Get off me!"

"Make me! If you are such a great, mighty Templar, getting off me should be no—" The quick, deadly accuracy of Leonardo's fist to the center of Ezio's face was shocking and admittedly painful – almost horrifyingly so. He never expected such a strike to be in the man's nature. Then again, he never expected him to be a Templar, and that had turned out to be a truth he hadn't seen coming.

"Do not threaten me," Leonardo hissed, wagging a finger in his face. Ezio quickly moved and bit down on it, and the clenching of his teeth made Leonardo wail in pain. The sound made Ezio stop at once, out of pure instinct. He had always stopped something when he knew it was hurting his friend. It shocked him that it was still that way. Leonardo pulled his hand back, eyes never leaving Ezio's, and with a quick shuffle he was back on his feet. "I was going to bring in Salai—"

"That little brat?"

"—to aid me, but perhaps I will simply kill you myself. It would be easy." Ezio rose a brow and smirked despite himself.

"And what of the Pieces of Eden and their whereabouts?"

"There are more of your kind hiding – and I know who and where, thanks to you – and if I do not get it out of you, perhaps I will ask your wife." Ezio felt his stomach drop at the words. For his having been away from Leonardo for so long, it was somehow chagrining to discover that he knew of his marital status. "Perhaps, despite her dirty mouth, she would loosen her lips enough to tell me all she knows once she saw your dead body—"

"Do not lay a finger on her!" Ezio barked, attempting to lunge at him and almost face planting into the ground when it failed. "If you touch her, Leonardo, I swear, I will—"

"You will what? Kill me? You couldn't." Ezio got quiet, suddenly losing all rage and aggression as he stared at Leonardo the not-Templar, the artist. He couldn't look at him and see an enemy. He couldn't think of him and remember a time where he suspected spying. He couldn't imagine killing him. Darn that man for being right, he knew him too well for simply pretending to like him. "By now, the small dose of poison should be spreading through your body and making you a bit more honest. Perhaps a little fuzzy in the head. If within the next five minutes I do not get the information I want, I will walk back to that chest, I will take out your sword, and I will use it against you." All reminiscing and friendly ideas were vanquished once again. It was true, then; Leonardo truly did not like him. If Ezio were not bound, he would kill him where he stood. Alas, fate did not allow such a victory. "Now…" Leonardo knelt down in front of him again, keeping his distance this time. "What is your name?"

"Francesco de Pazzi," he lied, proving he could still do so. Leonardo slapped him on the spot before taking a hold of his collar and shaking him slightly.

"Too many blatant lies and I will leave you here to starve."

"How will you know I am lying? I could be Francesco de Pazzi." Leonardo gave a sly smile.

"Nice try, you fraud. Perhaps next time, though, you should pick an identity of somebody I am not allied with."

"Then picking my own would be completely valid, as it is clear that you are not allied with me, and actually hate me." Leonardo fell silent for a long moment before releasing his collar and pushing him back, flattening his clothes for him before glaring into his eyes again.

"Who am I?"

"The biggest liar I have ever had the pleasure of being acquainted with."

"Name," Leonardo spat, sounding shook by the words.

"Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci. Don't give me that look, Leonardo; I know your whole name. I am an assassin. It is what I do." Leonardo snarled but stayed where he was, eyes squinting more, almost ablaze with bitter fire.

"Where were you born?"

"Firenze."

"And I?"

"Vinci, of course."

"Who is your spouse?"

"Niccolo Machiavelli—"

"That is a lie if I've ever heard one."

"I just like to rub it in your face that I am still resisting whatever little truth serum method you attempted on me," Ezio explained with a proud grin. Leonardo obviously did not share the humor. "… Rosa. You know that."

"Certo. I know more about you then you may suspect, Ezio."

"And vice versa." They both stared at each other for a moment, silently scrutinizing one another, before finally Leonardo heaved a sigh and continued.

"What is my date of birth?"

"April 16th."

"What was your father's name?"

"G-Giovanni." Ezio looked taken aback by the fact that the name still brought a crack to his voice and a pain in his heart. The noise did not go unnoticed by Leonardo, who paused and was clearly thinking this over. "Go on. Do your worst. These are all such harmless questions."

"Where are the Codex pages?"

"My residence."

"That is too vague. You could mean the Guild, or the villa—"

"Mi dispiace, it is what you're getting." Leonardo became silent, staring him down, the harsh, angry look on his face one that Ezio had never seen. He began inspecting it. It showed so little signs of age, as if Leonardo had slowed down the process somehow. Or perhaps the man had simply aged more gracefully then himself, the assassin, the rogue.

"What is my profession?"

"Hypocritical, lying, two-faced, conniving—"

"Basta!" Leonardo snapped, and the sharp tone of his voice stopped Ezio at once.

"Templar, then."

"I was expecting an 'artist'. You are patronizing me." Ezio shrugged and could not stop the helpless look that crept into his expression.

"What else can I do?" he asked, his voice quiet and bemused. Whether he was aware or not, Leonardo's expression betrayed him, and soon a concerned crease formed between his brows. Ezio could not decide if Leonardo truly disliked him or not, and it made the whole interrogation harder.

"Fine then. What is your profession?"

"Assassino," Ezio admitted quietly, dipping into a slouch and staring at the floor. He was beginning to feel tired. He wondered if that poison really was taking control of him.

"Do you hate me?"

"I couldn't." Leonardo paused again before turning and walking over to the chest where he had stowed all of the man's weapons and pulled out his long sword. He stalked back over to the assassin that was before him and quickly pulled the tip over his knuckles. Blood slowly drew to the surface of his skin, but Ezio seemed unfazed.

"Not even now?"

"Not even after you have admitted to being a Templar. Not even now, when I look at you and my Vision tells me you are my enemy and target." As Ezio clenched his hands into stubborn fists, the blood seeped up and began to roll down his fingers.

"Where is the Apple?"

"Not with you, and that is what matters." Leonardo stepped behind him, shaking his head and sighing.

"The Staff?"

"Safe."

"Any piece of Eden?"

"Not in your possession, and that is how it will stay." Leonardo pressed the tip of the blade between Ezio's shoulder blades but didn't push through. However, the pressure was enough to make the assassin arch his back and attempt to swat it away.

"W-Why do you have to be so stubborn?" Leonardo questioned, and the stutter made Ezio turn round to meet his gaze. The artist – no, the Templar – looked almost heartbroken. "Just tell me. I won't even have to kill you if you tell me."

"If it is your killing me that is troubling you, then spare me."

"I cannot. I was told to kill you."

"Then there is somebody controlling you." Leonardo pushed the tip in a little further, making Ezio gasp and try to twist away.

"As there is Lorenzo controlling you. They are not my boss, per se, but they give me orders."

"Deny them. Join me. Become an assassin." Leonardo looked troubled before he bit his bottom lip and shook his head.

"I-It is not that easy—"

"Drop the sword, unbind me, and we run away. What is not easy about that?"

"You do not understand!"

"Then tell me so I can try to!" Leonardo made a movement to throw his hands up and groan, but the action forced a large gash in Ezio's back. He wailed in pain and shot forward to try and move away from the weapon, but it had already done its damage. "L-Leonardo, please, my wife, our child—"

"Ha! Child? That is not something you bothered telling me!"

"And why should I have, Templar?" Leonardo roared as he rammed the hilt of the sword into the back of Ezio's head, forcing a groan from the man before he leaned forward and tried to catch a breath, obstinate, defeated tears welling in his eyes.

"I feel no remorse in doing this," Leonardo explained in a voice that betrayed his words before pushing the tip of the blade into Ezio's back and sliding it through.

"W-We are lying to each other," Ezio croaked. "I do not even have a child. I am but expecting one. I would rather be gone now, before I have a chance to connect with it." Leonardo's pace slowed, and for a moment, he questioned pulling it back out, as if doing so would reverse his actions. He stood there for a moment, watching as Ezio let out dry weeps, his body beginning to shake as it rattled the very blade Leonardo still held. Slowly, Leonardo walked round him and came to his front, roughly clutching the assassin's chin in his fingers and watching as blood dripped out of his mouth. His eyes were sealed shut as he cried.

"Let me see your eyes. I always respected the hope and fascination I saw there." Ezio didn't comply, turning his head away completely as he tried to squeeze his eyes shut. His energy and determination to do so was slipping fast, and as Leonardo clenched his jaw and forced his gaze forward, he found that he was powerless to stop him. "Open your eyes."

"Dio, no, traditore, I-I won't do anything you ask, nothing you say has any meaning to me anymore—"

"You are pitiful!" A crack in his voice. For a moment, Ezio thought he sensed a slight undertone of disappointment or sorrow in his tone – something human.

"Not so… Simply deceived." The blood that dribbled out of Ezio's mouth slithered between Leonardo's fingers, curving down his knuckles and dripping into the assassin's lap. He tried to hold out, tried to keep his breath even as the sword so snugly jammed into his person constricted the space around his lungs. As Leonardo's grip tightened in an urgent way to make his eyes open, he was further determined to not do as he said. The man that he believed to be his friend had transformed into an unfamiliar monster. If Ezio was going to have a last memory of him, it was not going to be of him like this. He let out a shaky, constricted sob, unable to resist the betrayed, defeated tears. It stung in a way that he didn't remember. Finally, he could no longer resist the burning, and when he opened his eyes to give the artist his wish, his entire vision was blurred by heavy tears. He noticed that the grip on his face had loosened, and after a few moments of simply crying and attempting to heave enough breath to do so, Leonardo sank to his knees before him and lowered his head into his lap, his hands clinging to his legs.

"D-Do not do this to me," he begged, voice rough and uneven. "I have to kill you. I have to—"

"You do not have… much of a choice, amico." He laughed despite the pain and tears, but the gesture forced blood into his throat, and he let out a wet, painful cough. "I believe you have completed that objective. I-I do not feel well anymore." He shrugged and felt his head drop. His voice became a feather-light whisper, but the artist had no trouble hearing it. "You've won. You've defeated Ezio Auditore."

"I don't want to."

"Perhaps… you should have thought about that… before you became a Templar." The way his voice was dying, so beautifully weakening, made Leonardo regret ever having betrayed him. To betray a man like Ezio was to betray a member of the family; it was unheard of, frowned upon, and ruthless.

"W-Where is Rosa?" he asked as he sat up, hands clinging to Ezio's face and attempting to help him make eye contact.

"The Guild… as always… S-She is always there." Leonardo considered removing the blade, but realized that doing so would leave a completely open wound. He wondered about carrying the assassin all the way to Rosa, but knew that by the time he got there, he would be gone. Looking around, he saw a paper and chalk and was quick to bring them to him, putting the chalk in his hand and setting it against the blank note.

"Write a letter. I will deliver it," he instructed. "I-I don't know if it will help, but I will prepare some salve and bandages and—"

"Leonardo, you have always been a proficient dottore. Just get it," he sputtered, and without a second say-so, Leonardo jogged out of the room, asking that nobody enter it while he was away. He wanted to dart to the medicine pantry, but knew that being in such a hurry would raise alarm, and thus he was forced to walk all the way there. Upon his arrival, he hoarded several medicines and rolls of gauze, stuffing them in his clothes, knowing that simply carrying them into the room where the dreaded assassin was would raise suspicions. Casually, he walked back, trying to make it quick but appear normal. He saluted one of the Templars as they passed, and as soon as he came to Ezio's chamber, he sprinted in, throwing the door open and slamming it closed behind him.

Ezio lied there, face flat on the ground, the stick of chalk still in his hand and the sword still lodged in his body. Leonardo cried out and began retrieving all of the supplies as he rushed over and pulled him onto his side, unbinding his hands and yanking the sword out. Ezio made no movement of pain, and the lack of response made Leonardo whimper and shake him slightly. He had no time to linger, though. He quickly got to work, cleaning and medicating the gaping wounds on his back and even the ones on his knuckles, and it took almost no time before he was disinfecting and wrapping them. He rolled him onto his back and clung to his shoulders, disturbed by the calm but worried look on his face.

"Ezio, open your eyes," he begged. "Make a noise. Something." He grabbed his wrist and checked for a pulse, and the slightest sensation of blood through veins could be felt, and it was accepted like water in a desert. He spoke quickly, urgently, "E-Ezio, there is nothing I can say fast enough that would ever properly display my apology—"

"Stop," Ezio muttered, and the gentle breathiness of his voice was so broken and vulnerable that it was easily heard over Leonardo's babbling. Leonardo stared at him, waiting for him to continue. "I don't… hate you…"

"The sentiment is shared. I'm so sorry, amico."

"Ah… A genuine 'amico'… It is… It is refreshing to hear that… from your lips once more…" He smiled peacefully, leaning into the crook of Leonardo's arm as he tried to sigh, but catching his breath was challenging.

"I-I have so much I wish to tell you."

"Another time, amico caro… Another place…" And as Ezio moved his hand to perhaps grab Leonardo's or to reach for something else, it made it several inches before falling limply to the ground, and Leonardo was left holding the assassin and regretting everything he had ever done to betray him. He wondered how he would admit this to Rosa, or if he even should. He could barely even admit it to himself. It took a half hour for Leonardo to have enough consciousness to move the assassin gently to the ground and pick up the note he had written, and he found it increasingly difficult to read as he scanned over it, for not only did Ezio's writing get messier and lighter as it went on, but his tears made it near impossible to see much of anything.

Dearest Leonardo da Vinci

You'd think I would write to Rosa. I should, but I cannot make myself do that. I knew you longer then I knew her, and it is a blessing I am thankful for every day of my life. It is impossible to hate you, and even more so to accept you as my enemy. As far as I'm concerned, I have just been conquered by the only man that could ever bring me down: my best friend. I am sorry it had to end this way, caro mio.

Distinti saluti,

Ezio Auditore