A/N: GACKTfan101 wrote the original, and I just decided to do a re-write because I thought that the idea was very interesting. If you want to read the original before this, so that you can get an idea of where I was coming from copy this link into your web bar: .net/s/6809192/1/Ezios_Family
Also about my Assassins Creed II story, I am sorry to say that I wasn't able to update today because I was not feeling up to writing the 15th chapter, but I promise it will be posted Monday, the latest Tuesday. This re-write was written 3 days ago, but I didn't post it because I didn't really like it that much. So I edited it today and I'm posting it as a gift because I didn't write chapter 15 so here you are! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: In no way is this story "plot"/ idea mine. All was from GACKTfan101, and I am just a person who did a re-write. I repeat that this is not mine.
Federico:
He sat there, emotions swelling inside of him as he thought about his family. After assassinating the last Templar he thought that happiness would overcome him that revenge would feel ever so sweet, but in honesty it left nothing but an empty vortex inside of him. Ezio stared at his hand thinking about how much blood has stained them. Why did he not feel complete after quickly killing Rodrigo, or that swine Uberto Alberti? Surely he must have done something wrong why he wasn't feeling like he had accomplished something by going after the man that had caused his families death and him so much pain.
"Why…" He whispered, head now bent down so that it was resting in between his knees. Flashes of his life before he became an Assassin ran throughout his head. A scene that he remembered so dearly came up first. The time that Ezio had gotten into a fight with Vieri and how Federico came to help him defeat his enemy. Another image of Federico taking him to the doctor flashed throughout his mind and he unconsciously touched the scar on his upper lip. The last image that brought a smile unto his face was when they had raced each other to the top of the church, which overlooked Firenze. The sight was magnificent and he remembered how serene it was up there as a light cool breeze brushed over his clothes.
A bright white life engulfed his vision and he found himself standing a top that same church.
"It is a good life we lead, brother." Federico said, grabbing unto Ezio's elbow.
"The best. May it never change." Ezio smiled.
"And may it never change us."
Petruccio:
The light had disappeared and Ezio shook his head, realizing that he was still sitting in the same spot under the bridge. He could have sworn that it was so real. That he could actually touch Federico. The breeze felt the same, and the air that Federico carried felt so real, Ezio couldn't believe that it was just him remembering all of that. Memories don't play back as realistically as those did. Maybe he was just too tired, or he dreamt everything.
If he did dream everything, then why was it still night time? He sighed and shook his head, trying to rid his head of his family, but the more he tried to ignore it the more it came coming back, stronger than ever. A smiling Petruccio stood in front of him, almost making Ezio jump out of his chair. As he reached out to touch that mere image of Petruccio, he saw himself standing next to his little brother talking.
"What…" He whispered, tilting his head in confusion.
"What are you doing out here Petruccio? You should be in bed."
"I want those feathers!" He said, pointing excitedly at the building behind him.
"What for."
"It's a secret."
He smiled and ruffled Petruccio's hair.
"It is not real." He told himself, shaking these thoughts out of his head.
Giovanni:
His father was a brilliant man. A man that he could look up to and say that, during his lifetime he did everything right for his family. He did everything, yet his life was taken right before his eyes. A single tear fell down Ezio's face which he quickly wiped away, not wanting to break down crying in public. Why was it that such hateful and evil people would do something to a man who had a family? Of course it probably had to do more with the fact that he was an Assassin, rather than him having a family, but it still hurt remembering all of these memories.
Ezio did not know why he was suddenly remembering all of these painful memories, but it was probably the fact that after having tracked down every single person that was involved with his father's death, and more, he started remembering why he did it? Ezio didn't realize that he was walking until he found himself stopping in the middle of a busy marketplace, despite the fact that it was still fairly dark outside. Once again a bright white light consumed his vision and he was brought back to another memory.
"I've prepared some documents here for Lorenzo de' Medici to review. I need them delivered to him." Giovanni said walking around his desk to pick up the letters.
"With haste father."
"Return to me when it's done." He commanded passing over the letters to Ezio.
Maria:
His mother. No words could describe how beautiful she is. She loved all of her children and took interest in all of them. His mother always scolded him and Federico for chasing after skirts, and always tended to Claudia and Petruccio like they were fragile objects. The love that she had shown for his father and her family was something that he couldn't describe, but that one day changed everything. The day that his world came crashing down all around him.
It was the day that his two brothers and father were murdered.
"So Ezio, what do you do?" Leonardo asked, walking next to a struggling Ezio who was trying to hold the box of paintings while weaving in and out of the crowds of Firenze without dropping the box.
"He's been working for his father." His mother answered, stepping around a beggar that almost grabbed unto her skirts. "Ah! You're to be a banker?" Leonardo asked."For now. And you? Art was it."
"Truth be told, it's been difficult for me to settle. Painting is nice, but I often feel like my work lacks…I don't know…purpose. Does that make sense?" He said touching Ezio on the shoulder lightly. "I'd rather contribute more practically. More directly. Architecture, perhaps. Or anatomy. I'm not content to merely capture the world. I want to change it."
"Oh Leonardo! I have no doubt you'll go on to do great things!" Maria praised, gripping unto Leonardo's elbow.
"Vi ringrazio, Madonna. (I thank you.) That's kind of you."
Maria nodded as Ezio placed the box of paintings next to their door. "Thank you for the help son. Don't let me keep you from your other duties."
"It was nice to meet you Ezio. I hope our paths cross again.
"Anch'io (Me too)."
He smiled as he watched his mother walked off to tend to her business.
Yes, his mother was a wonderful woman.
"Ehi Claudia. How are you?"
"Bene (Okay)."
"You shouldn't keep things from me."
She sighed."It's Duccio."
"What of him?"
"I think he's been…unfaithful."
"Who told you this?" Ezio said, becoming angrier the more Claudia talked.
"The other girls. I thought they were my friends."
"Harpies." Ezio waved it off to better emphasize how pitiful they were. "You're better off without them."
"I loved him." She said looking at Ezio with watery eyes.
"No Claudia. You only thought you did."
"He should suffer for what he's done." The quick change in emotions certainly caused Ezio to become surprised, but he quickly covered it up, now wanting to make Duccio pay for making his sister cry.
"Wait here. I'll go have a word with him."
He remembered that clear as day. It was one of the few times that he and Claudia had ever talked like that before. Ezio smiled as he remembered beating Duccio to the ground. The man had thought that he would be able to mess with an Auditore, but he forgot that she had brothers that would find him and kill him. The cracking of the man's nose on his fist never felt so good and he knew that Claudia appreciated everything that he had done for her that day. He had spoken with her later that evening, telling her that she shouldn't love every man that she dates, for it will only end in bloodshed and heartache.
And it certainly did end in bloodshed.
OoOoOo
He didn't know that he could harbor such hatred for one man. The man that had pulled the lever that sent his family to their death. He could remember the screaming of the crowd in his ear as he tried to maneuver around the people that were standing, yelling for his family to be hung. The influence that one person could have on so many people was amazing. The fact that his family had done nothing, yet the crowd screamed for them to be hung.
Uberto Alberti had been his favorite kill. When he sunk his hidden blade into his neck and watched the blood pour out slowly he had smiled to himself. No prayers should have been put on his body after what he had done, but out of respect, which he still had, he said a short prayer.
Ezio placed his head on Leonardo's shoulder and softly cried to himself, thankful that he had at least one friend that could comfort him at a time like this. He shouldn't have barged into Leonardo's workshop like that, but he was desperate for some type of comfort that he disregarded the artist's privacy. "Are you sure that you are okay?" Leonardo asked, running a hand up and down Ezio's arm. He didn't trust his voice, but instead nodded. "I'm sure that this will pass soon enough." He whispered, kissing the top of Ezio's head in a fatherly manner.
"Thank you." Ezio said, feeling grateful for everything that he had done for him.
"It is nothing Ezio. Nothing at all."