Author's Notes: Alright, I'm new to the whole fanfiction business, so I wanted to outline a few things. For one, I am well aware that I have probably made some mistakes. Please let me know, and I will do my best to fix them. Promise.
For two, I like to play around with the characters a bit, and the storyline. In this one, I made Ezio younger than he would have been when he first went to Venice, or really even began the biggest part of his story with the thieves. I just wanted him to be younger, so poof! He's younger. The power!
Lastly, please review! It's the only way I'll know that people want to read more!
Now enjoy! ^^
Ezio clutched his tunic tightly, a grimace twisting his face. He remembered something Antonio had said about breathing exercises to deal with pain, so he decided to give it a go. He took one breath though, and that was the end of that. His entire body was wracked with coughs again, and they tore at his wounds, causing them to gape and weep more than they were.
How had he gotten into such a mess, he wondered. He already knew the answer though, before he even had to think on it. Lorenzo. Lorenzo and his Uncle. They threw at him task after task, and being what he was – the prodigious assassin, and hope of all thieves, courtesans, and the like – he could never refuse. It always came to vengeance for his family, or protecting the cause. Grande dio… he was tired…The wounds accumulated, and he had neither the time, nor the ability to see a doctor.
All of that led up to where he was now. Sitting in a roof garden box, pressed to the ground, listening for the slightest hint of a guard approaching. He had to strain his senses, not because the footsteps would be quiet, but because he could barely hear anything over the thundering of his own heart.
He'd done the job, sure, but not before what seemed like an entire army of brutes surrounded him, and he was forced to fight them off. He had suffered the consequences of the battle, but he had managed to escape, and so now he was waiting. Now he was praying, silently, that he wouldn't be found by a seeker.
As he waited, he began to analyze his wounds. Well, his new wounds. His leg pained him the most. He didn't dare to look at it just yet. Instead, he checked the next most pressing ache. Just along his right spaulder, he'd been struck by one of the brute's axes. It had been a glancing blow, thanks to his quick reflexes, but the man was strong and his blade was sharp. The wound wept steadily, and a quick inspection revealed that Ezio could easily see the bone of his shoulder and collarbone. From the way it ached when he so much as twitched the arm, he had to assume that the bone was either broken or cracked.
Continuing his inspection, he pressed his fingers into his ribs. They gave, and he had to stifle a hiss of pain. Broken. At least three of them, if not more. That would explain his difficulty breathing. His wrist, now that he thought about it, was also quite swollen. And sore.
When he finally did get around to looking at his leg, he rather wished he hadn't. Underneath his greaves, the cloth of his leggings was torn and bloody, and when he looked through one of the tears, he could clearly make out a ragged end of the narrower of the two leg bones pressing through the swollen, ripped flesh. He quickly shut his eyes, leaning his head back against the side of the garden box, counting in his head to keep from passing out. Un… due… tre… he mentally chanted.
He got himself under control, and quickly pulled one of the boards from the bottom of the garden box, and aligned it to his leg, sliding the straightened end beside his ankle in his boot. He grimaced as even the slightest movement sent shocks of pain up his leg, and quickly opted to bite his teeth around his collar before he continued with his impromptu splinting. He cautiously put his greaves back in place, and with several quick, agonizing tugs, he tightened the greaves and the board into place.
Once his breathing was back under control, he focused again on the sounds around him. He couldn't hear any noises, so as quietly as he could, he slid out of the garden box. Immediately when he put weight on his leg, he realized that the splint, though helpful, wasn't going to be enough for him to get very far.
He knew he couldn't make it all the way back to the port, which left him with only one option. Leonardo.
His heading in mind, Ezio began the grueling journey. He was forced to stay on the street, his left leg and right arm both unable to support him as he jumped or climbed. His leg barely supported him as he walked. Grazie, dio mio… Ezio thought as the familiar door to Leonardo's workshop game into sight.
Checking to be sure that his injuries weren't showing, and that his makeshift splint was concealed safely beneath his greaves, Ezio knocked, and then pushed the door open.
"Ezio, amico mio! Sono felice di vederlo!" Leonardo said, turning around with a massive grin. Ezio managed his own half smile.
"And I, you, Leonardo," he said, keeping as much strain from his voice as possible. Leonardo knew him too well though.
"Ezio…Cosa c'è?" Leonardo asked, walking up to his friend. Ezio hadn't bothered to remove his hood, and so Leonardo took the liberty of doing so, gently lifting it from his friend's head. With his eyes free of the hood's shadows, Leonardo could make out the dark shadows under his friend's eyes, and the sweat beaded upon his face. "Dio mio, you look awful. Sit down," he said, steering him into the chair. Ezio allowed himself to be helped into the chair, settling limply against the plush.
Now in the safety of Leonardo's house, he allowed himself to relax. The whole place exuded an air of…sanctuary. Of home. It smelled of paint, clay, and parchment, as well as the light incents Leonardo insisted on burning. More than that though, it smelled of Leonardo, and that, Ezio thought, had to be what made it feel safe more than any of that other stuff.
He was so caught up in his own world that he didn't notice Leonardo was speaking to him until a lightly calloused hand snapped in front of his face. "Ezio! Ezio are you still with me?"
Leonardo was genuinely concerned about his friend. As if that is all he is to you, Leonardo's treacherous mind interrupted. Leonardo quickly shrugged it off though, deciding that there were much more important things than dealing with his seemingly unrequited love for the man in front of him. Like, say, taking care of said man.
"Mi dispiace, I suppose I drifted…" Ezio apologized absently, his eyes beginning to slide closed.
"Ezio!" Leonardo exclaimed, shaking him lightly. Ezio's eyes immediately burst open, and settled on Leonardo with a wide eyed, almost wild gaze. His left hand snapped onto Leonardo's in a vice grip.
Leonardo could see the surprise and…was that fear in his eyes? His breathing had quickened considerably, and the grip was strong, even if it wasn't close to what Leonardo knew he could manage. "Shhh, Ezio," he whispered soothingly, making no move to either free his hand, or pull away. "Shhh, it's alright."
Ezio finally seemed to realize what was going on, and released Leonardo's wrist like it burned him. "Mi dispiace," he said quickly, eyes downcast.
Leonardo smiled reassuringly. "It is quite alright, amico mio," he said. "Come now, I'll have one of the servants run you a bath. You could use one."
Ezio managed an indignant look, and said, "My sincerest apologies if my smell is not to your liking." The whole thing was kind of downplayed by the obvious weakness to his voice.
"On second thought, perhaps that might not be the best idea," Leonardo said. "You look as though you might very well drown if I leave you alone."
"Non ti preoccupare," Ezio said, waving his hand dismissively before dropping it back to his lap out of the sheer inability to hold it up any longer.
Leonardo thought about just allowing him to sleep, but he could tell that there was something wrong with his friend. He was worried about him.
He decided that a bath would probably help him, and he could always check on him to make sure he was still alright. "Alright then, come on you big useless thing," he said lightly, reaching for his arm to help him get up. Ezio accepted the help, rising up and leaning heavily on Leonardo as he led him for the stairs down into the bathroom. When they got to the first one though, Ezio started pulling back.
"Non," he said, turning away, presumably for the door. Leonardo held onto him though. That worried him more than anything he'd seen that night. He was able to hold onto Ezio. "Per favore," he pleaded as Leonardo attempted to get him to go down the stairs. "Per favore, non."
Leonardo stopped. He hadn't heard Ezio sound so pitiful in a long time, and last time, it hadn't been good. He quickly decided that he wanted to calm him down before he did anything. It seemed like he wanted to sit down, so he led him back over to the chair, and then pulled another in front of it.
"Ezio, amico mio, what's wrong?" Ezio just shook his head, his shoulders sagging resignedly. "Ezio, do I need to call a doctor? What? What can I do?" Ezio shook his head again, but this time, it dipped down to his chest. Leonardo hurriedly shook him, and his head snapped up again, his eyes unnaturally wide. Again, his chest heaved, and finally, Leonardo couldn't take it anymore.
He walked out to his door, and to his relief, caught sight of a group of the local thieves. He waved them over quickly, and they came.
"Si, signore?" one of them asked.
"I need you to go to Antonio. I need him to get here as soon as possible. Tell him it is Ezio." The young bandit nodded, and they all retreated back into the streets.
Leonardo turned and went back into his house, but he'd only gotten the door closed before he was pushed up against the wall by a fist in his collar.
"Ezio!" he hissed, grabbing at the assassin's sleeve.
"What did you tell them?" Ezio snarled. He was dizzy…everything was spinning, and so loud and dull and booming. Something in the back of his head told him he was losing too much blood, but he didn't understand what that meant anymore. He didn't understand. Why didn't he understand?
"I asked them to get Antonio. I know something is ailing you, amico mio, and Antonio might be able to help," Leonardo explained, suddenly more concerned with the unfocused look in Ezio's eyes than his fist in his shirt.
"Non!" Ezio shouted.
"No what, Ezio? What is wrong?"
"Non!" Ezio repeated. His grip was growing slacker by the second. "I…head…dizzy," he slurred out, and he began to sway. Leonardo took that as his cue to help his love before he fell down, and gently started to pull his fingers loose. "Leo…" Ezio groaned, looking more like the nineteen year old he really was than Leonardo had ever seen.
That was the only warning Leonardo got before Ezio lurched forward. He caught him, surprised by how light the assassin was. He sat him in the chair, and then set about clearing off one of his work tables. He put several pillows across its surface, and then a blanket, and then went back to Ezio to help him up.
When he went to lift him up by the arm, Ezio let out a cry. He would check it in a second, he told himself, and somehow managed to get the teen over to the work table so that he was sitting up with his legs on the table. He hadn't noticed before, but as he was helping him lift his legs onto the table, he felt a solid piece of something under his greaves on his left leg.
"Ezio, I need to take your armor off," Leonardo said. Ezio nodded, but clearly didn't understand what he was saying, because when he reached for his cape, Ezio let out a shout and jerked away, almost over the side of the table. Leonardo caught him just in time, pushing him back onto the table as he dislodged the cape and set it aside.
"Cannot see…" Ezio mumbled, and for a second, Leonardo thought that he was saying he was blind. He realized though, that he was talking about something that he didn't want Leonardo to see.
"See what?" Ezio shook his head again, but apparently that was a bad idea, and he put his hand to his head. His right hand, though, Leonardo noticed, hung limp at his side. Sighing, Leonardo moved onto his spaulders. Ezio tried to bat him away, but his movements were sluggish. "Shhh," he soothed, unfastening the leather straps that held the armor to his shoulders. That was when he felt it. Thick, warm liquid spread across his hands, and he just knew that it was bad.
Sure enough, his entire hand was covered in ichor. "Dio mio, Ezio," he whispered. Ezio groaned lightly, and tried to cover the wound, but Leonardo snapped back into action, moving onto the chest plate so that he could get access to the wound.
He realized, as he was pulling the chest armor off, that some of the blood had dried, sealing his shirt to his skin, and his armor to his shirt. Cringing, he began to peel it away, trying to ignore Ezio's pained gasps. He was shaking now, against the blankets, and he was cold to the touch.
"Tired…" he mumbled, his eyes sliding closed. Leonardo shook him awake again, and finished extricating the chest guard.
"Ezio, you have to stay awake, okay?" Ezio groaned and looked like he was going to argue. "For me? Please?" That seemed to do the trick.
"Si, Leo…per voi," he mumbled as Leonardo began pulling his shirt free. It took some doing, partly because all of the blood had caked into the shirt, holding it to Ezio's numerous wounds, but also because Ezio simply wouldn't sit still.
Leonardo ended up having to cut a patch of the shirt away, the part around his collarbone wound, because there was so much blood, dried and otherwise. With the shirt all the way off, Leonardo couldn't help but gag a little. Wounds, old and new, laced across his torso and what he could see of his back, overlapping each other, bleeding into each other, even bleeding over one another. "Dio mio...what have they done to you?"
"Who?" Demanded a voice from the doorway. Leonardo turned to see Antonio standing in the doorway with Rosa. After seeing the scene before him though, Antonio didn't wait for an answer, striding straight to the table. Ezio saw him though, and it set him into a panic. He sat up, his left arm clutching at the newly opened wound on his shoulder as he kicked weakly with his right foot. The other two limbs remained limp though, and all he managed to do was kick himself across the table, into Leonardo's waiting embrace. The artist pulled him close, careful of his wounds, and rocked him, hushing the teen who was spitting rapid, slurred Italian curses at the man.
"What the hell?" Rosa wondered aloud, watching the display. That made Ezio's eyes snap to her, and he panicked again, kicking harder against Leonardo, who held him still, continuing to rock him gently. "Che cosa è errato con lui?!" This only elicited a snarl from the injured assassin, who reached for his knife belt. Antonio stopped him before he could though, removing the belt in one swift move, and then stripping Ezio's wrists of his hidden blades.
He screamed, and tried to lash out at Antonio, but Leonardo pinned his left arm in his hold, and his right arm was completely immobile.
"Shhh, amico mio, shhh," he soothed. Ezio didn't calm though, for a few moments afterwards, and slowly went limp in Leonardo's arms, jerking weakly at intervals. "Bene, Ezio, bene," Leonardo whispered.
"What is going on?" Antonio whispered, careful not to upset Ezio again.
"He is frightened of something," Leonardo explained. "He is going into shock. I need you to help me with him." Antonio nodded, but as Leonardo moved to lay Ezio back on the table, he let out a cry, latching onto the artist's arm and holding it around himself, backing further against Leonardo.
Leo…safe…must keep, Ezio thought frantically, and let out a cry, using all of the strength he had left to hold onto his safety. Leo loved him, even if it wasn't how he wanted him to love him. Not how he loved him. It didn't matter right now. Leo would protect him. From who? What? Why aren't I safe? Who is coming? Ezio's mind rambled. Cannot tell…cannot see…vision… his assassin's sight was betraying him. All he could make out as it faded in and out was Leonardo's frame in a soothing blue. The other two were nothing. No light, no danger, no safety, no target, and his normal vision was too blurred to discern their faces.
"Shhh, Ezio, you are safe," Leonardo's voice cut through his haze.
"Si…you…safe…cannot see," Ezio prattled senselessly. "Do not know…due…nemico? ...amico?"
Leonardo finally caught on to what he was saying. He couldn't see Rosa and Antonio, no doubt far too dizzy from the blood loss. He knew the assassin's eyes, as well. When the pupils shrunk to such unnaturally small pinpoints, he was seeing through his assassin's sight. His pupils were dilating now, going from normal to pinpoint. It had to be disorienting.
"Amico," Leonardo assured. "Antonio and Rosa."
"Leo," Ezio groaned, trying to pull himself closer to the other.
"Si, amico. I am here," he said.
"Soggiorno…"
"I am going nowhere, my friend. But neither are you," he said, freeing his arm. Ezio let out a cry, and grasped blindly for the lost contact as he was pushed to lay flat on the table by Antonio and Rosa. He roared in fury, kicking with his good leg as well as he could while they tugged his boot and greaves off, until a metal ring suddenly locked around the thrashing limb. His left arm met the same fate, and he found that he could move neither.
Leonardo grimaced as he finished restraining the offending limbs. The table had a steel frame, irons, and belts. He'd built it the last time Ezio had taken an arrow to the back of his thigh and refused to let Leonardo heal him. It had kind of just been to see if he could, and he succeeded. He'd just hoped he would never have to use it.
He pulled the leather belt across Ezio's middle, and tightened it to keep him from bucking and twisting his hips to try to get loose.
"Liberilo! Liberilo!!" Ezio screamed. Antonio quickly shoved a cloth over his mouth and nose, and tied it around the back of his head. Ezio screamed louder now, thrashing his head about. "Leo!!" he cried, trying to twist the cloth off. "Aiutilo!"
"What is that?" Leo asked, wanting to assure Ezio.
"Concentrated vervain extract. To make him sleep," Antonio explained. Leonardo nodded, and repeated it to Ezio, stilling his head with a gentle hand under his chin. Antonio and Rosa had begun cutting away his trousers, and he didn't want Ezio to upset himself further. He didn't want him to give himself whiplash either.
Regardless, Ezio grew more frantic as they Antonio started to remove the greaves from his right leg, and thereby the splint. "Per favore, Leo, rendagli l'arresto!" Ezio cried, twisting against his restraints, both human and inanimate.
Despite his cries, Antonio removed the splint, and then Ezio's trousers, leaving him in nothing but his under-breeches that reached only mid thigh, and hung low on his hips.
"Dio mio," Antonio growled when he saw the state of Ezio's leg. "Mi dispiace, amico mio…we have to fix this," he said, gently beginning to examine the leg. His fingers had no sooner touched the leg than Ezio let out an almost animalistic sounding snarl and his struggles renewed.
"The vervain is not working!" Rosa exclaimed. "He inhales too little of it!"
Antonio frowned, and produced a bottle from his hip satchel. He moved to the head of the table, motioning for Leonardo to maintain his hold on Ezio's head. "There are other ways to introduce herbs to the system," he said, opening the bottle. It had a dropper on it, and without warning, he pried open one of Ezio's eyes and dropped some of the liquid into it. Ezio roared in pain and upset, and struggled harshly as Antonio continued administering the chemical.
"Now hold his eyes closed," he told Leonardo as Ezio's eyes began to weep a mixture of the purple liquid, and salty tears. Now thoroughly blinded, Ezio's mood changed for the worse. He screamed, kicking and thrashing about wildly as Antonio balled up a linen. He quickly pressed it to the wound on Ezio's shoulder, securing it with a strip of similar linen, and went back to his leg. This time, instead of a linen, he put both of his thumbs against the two visible edges of broken bone, and with a sharp jerk, pushed them back into alignment.
A cry of pure, bloodcurdling agony ripped from Ezio's throat, and Leonardo prayed the vervain would set in soon.
His torture wasn't complete yet. The remaining bones in his leg still had to be set, and Antonio set about it with brutal efficiency, though he too cringed each time the snap of bone brought forth an agonized scream from the teenager he'd grown to see almost as a son.
"It is done," Antonio said finally, and Rosa took his spot, beginning to stitch the gory wounds. As for Antonio, he took up post at his shoulder, removing the linen and feeling around the area. "Broken. Merde!" He hissed. Leonardo expected another violent reaction from Ezio, but it seemed as though the vervain was beginning to work. His movements were growing sluggish, and though his body continued to shudder, he seemed to be relaxing slightly.
"Leo…" he whispered, his voice hoarse from the screaming, and muddled from the medicine. "Stanco…molto…" he slurred. Leonardo brushed some of his hair, matted from the sweat and blood, from his face.
"Bene, Ezio, resto ora," Leonardo told him as Antonio began stitching the wound. Ezio's breath hitched.
"Si…bene…resto…" he trailed off, and Leonardo believed he was asleep. His lips parted again, even Leonardo barely heard it, two more words slipped through. "Amore mio…"
With that, Ezio surrendered to the calls of sleep, and his body stilled. The words had already been said though, and Leonardo stared with wide eyes. Amore? He thought to himself, brushing some of Ezio's hair from his face.
"Leonardo!" Antonio barked, snapping the artist from his daze. He nodded, and with one last glance as the surprisingly serene face of the teenager before him, he joined Antonio in trying to piece him back together.