Disclaimer: I don't own any aspect of the Assassin's Creed series.

He was the glove to his hand, fitting around him perfectly.

They started off as friends, merely neighbors in the same city. Days went on as they shared the same miracles, reveling the city's grand light. Time went on as they shared one another, diving into each other's interests. Sharing each other's hopes, dreams and desires. The gentler half of the duo cared nothing for his friend's desires, as they were darts to fragile ears, but they continued to share one another. They immersed each other in a world of dreams, breathing in unity as the sun fell. Protecting one another as the moon rose, dreaming of tomorrow.

They were friends at first, laughing over the same jokes. Tinkering with new delights, all the while encased in innocent joy. The softer half of the duo was pleased to know the other, thanking Maria Auditore for a certain errand. If it hadn't been for her, he wouldn't have discovered the pure, mischievous laughter of a kind soul. Wouldn't have discovered a fox's rich, seductive smile.

Wouldn't have discovered an assassin's spirit.

Time's unpredictable passage transformed friendship into love. Neither could live without the other, always in desperate need of security. The artist's assassin, who had blossomed into a Master Assassin, couldn't live without stability. He tired of his old ways, no longer wishing to chase after every hapless female. Yes, the confident bastard was beautiful. He knew it, Leonardo knew it-and yes, even the birds knew it. Ezio could have anyone he wanted, entitled to every maiden in every city.

However, he no longer the right to every maiden. He no longer wished to take advantage of pretty eyes and extravagant dresses. With the world in its current state, and with his mind in its current state, he needed security. He needed someone to uplift him whenever his burdens became too much to bear. He needed someone to refresh him whenever he felt too heavy to walk. He needed kindness. Compassion. Someone to carry him whenever things became too painful. Someone to comfort him over the loss of his family.

He needed the other half of his soul. He needed Leonardo.

Leonardo needed him as well. It went without saying, considering how much the artist smiled around him. Just as he understood Ezio, Ezio understood him. The assassin knew his likes and dislikes. He knew his favorite types of paint. His favorite textures, colors and sights. Ezio knew him as he knew the back of his own blade.

Without that part of his heart, the weaver of art surely would crumble.

Time tore them apart a second time, but the da Vinci never stopped thinking of him. His heart never stopped breathing, hoping, wishing for the other's return. Even when he was dragged in Cesare Borgia's services, he never stopped thinking of Ezio. Never stopped wondering when-or if-they'd ever meet again. Wondering if the Auditore was all right. Wondering if-

No. He never stopped wondering, even as Cesare pillaged him. Body, heart and soul.

The Borgia wasn't the least bit kind, tormenting him as he longed for an assassin's face. Ravaging him even when he was about to break, torn and bidden to his heart's tears. Rodrigo's son seemed hellbent on breaking him, even though he had drafted Leonardo into his family's service. Pleading for mercy only resulted in greater pain. Longing for another's face only led to a night in chains.

All wishes led to a dead-end. The same dead-end he had stared at, for the longest time.

Reality's black wall crumbled once he re-discovered Ezio, feeling as if he had discovered him for the very first time. It was their second reunion, but they were overjoyed. Happy to see one another.

The joy was ephemeral. Leonardo unwittingly burst into tears, Ezio made a thousand inquiries, Leonardo refused to spill anything...and then, five minutes later, Ezio vowed to slaughter every last Borgia in Italy-

Starting with Cesare.

Everything Leonardo didn't want to happen, happened. Ezio stormed off, configuring ways to send Cesare into a slow, agonizing death. Leonardo could only watch as his assassin walked off, vanishing into a sunset of crimson and marigold.

So, once again, he was plunged into the unknown. Forced to worry and wonder. Wonder where exactly Ezio wished to go. What was he going to do? What if Cesare led him into a trap? What if, what if, what if?

I wish I had never said anything. Wish I had never spilled a word.

The rising moon brought him no rest. He could not sleep, wondering where his assassin had gone. Wondering if he was safe. Wondering if he had eaten. Wondering if-

A certain pair of hands would ravage him once more.

Tears of the moon ran down his cheeks, laced with the moon's silver dust. A heart was in dire need of comfort, surrendering to fear's tremendous plague. He spent night after night with nausea. Migraines. Dizziness.

There was only an inch of silver lining. After the artist's ephemeral reunion with Ezio, the young Borgia became much too busy to eat him alive. The da Vinci was left to his own blueprints of life, enslaved underneath the bright silver moon.

Wishing. Worrying. Wanting. Needing a certain someone's arms.

"Well then. That was a spot of joy, wasn't it?"

No one replied to Shaun, devoid of speech because of emotion. They all exchanged fretful glances, hearts heavy from what they had just seen. Leonardo had just received another visit from Ezio, but once again, their visit was much too short. And much too painful. An enraged assassin was still vowing to skin Cesare from head to toe, Leonardo didn't want him to go-

Ezio would do it. Ezio would skin Cesare alive, for everything he had done to Leonardo. For everything he had put Leonardo through.

Rebecca was the first to speak, daring to break frail silence with her gentle voice. "Pretty deep memory, but nothin' on the Revenant," she said, her usual cheer darkened. "I know the Rev's linked to Ezio and Leo, but...Leo's tears can't possibly lead us to it. Right? I mean, all we've seen is..."

True to form, Desmond rose from his place in the Animus. "I know we're getting somewhere," he declared firmly, always the one to infuse optimism. "We've got to be. This Revenant gadget is the symbol of Ezio and Leo's love, right? If we just keep going, the right path will open. We've already got tickets to Venice."

Also true to form, an equally optimistic Lucy was hard at work, fingers stomping away at her keyboard. "According to the files, our two lovebirds found each other there. Leo gave Ezio the Revenant shortly before a rather climatic assassination. The thing is, I'm not looking forward to seeing that particular memory."

"Why not? Sounds like a perfectly sweet romance film," the team's historian said, outstretching his arms Heavenward. "Leonardo da Vinci and Ezio will meet, standing underneath the rainy skies. Our assassin will announce his greatest mission yet, Leo will weep all over his pretty robes, and that'll be that."

"Sheesh, someone's a little grumpy," the raven-haired genius said, face glowing with warmth. Landing a hand on her shoulder, the raven-haired male sent a radiant smile in Shaun's direction.

"He's been grumpy ever since this little shindig started. The thing is," he said, playfully mocking Lucy's recent words. Catching the harmless mockery, the golden maiden cast Desmond a smile.

"He's much sweeter than he used to be."

"Oh shut it, you overgrown twat."

The three of them shared mischievous smiles, watching as the Hastings returned to work. Scowling, he sent his fingers in a storm against his keyboard, typing a thousand words per minute. "I'll study our files for a while," Lucy eventually said, rising from her station. "The way things are going right now, I'll say we'll be able to make astounding progress in a short while. Our other teams are right on track, I'm happy to say."

"Yeah," Rebecca chimed in, rising from her station-and grabbing her Coke bottle. "Haven't lost a single soul yet! We've got be runnin' with some pretty good luck, here! Hopefully we'll be able to find the Revenant in no time!"

"Hey, Becky? Is it possible to skip memories, all the while still attaining vital information from them?"

"Aw, come on, Luce," the dark-haired maiden frowned. "Can't expect me to press the 'fast forward' button. The Animus doesn't work like that."

"Don't worry about it. She's just afraid of bawling her eyes out, the weak lil' crybaby."

"Hey," the golden maiden snarled, turning on a grinning Miles. "I'll have you know you were in tears too! Don't deny it, Desmond!"

"Hey hey hey! What did you expect? Leo's going out of his mind, having to deal with that fucking bastard Cesare! Oh, and let's not forget his annoying, bitchy boyfriend Ezio!"

Lucy had a habit of repeating Desmond's name, all in the name of grand affection. "Leave Ezio alone, Desmond," she ordered softly, eyes delivering a seemingly perilous glare. "He's under a lot of stress. I'm sure you would be too, having to run the Brotherhood all on your own."

"Oh boo hoo. The guy loses his uncle, can't get over losing other bits of his family, barely evades death on several occassions and he deserves a hug. Waah waah waaah. What about me?"

"If you guys don't mind, I've got quite a lot of work to do. Don't wish to be rude, but I'm only doing my job. Hope you understand."

Silence instantly flooded the room. Rebecca and Lucy both patted Desmond on the back, mischievously ordering him to remain behind. Their friend did so without complaint, assuring them everything would work out fine with a smile. Giggling as two children with a new toy, both maidens quickly made their departure-leaving the two men on their team alone.

Either he didn't notice their departure, or he didn't want to. In either case, Shaun continued to rage against his keyboard. Ignoring ephemeral bouts of nausea (side effects of 'field trips', as Rebecca called them), Desmond observed him for a short while. The historian had been a tad bit grumpy ever since the search for the Revenant began-but much warmer than usual. Quieter.

Shy.

"Hey, uh-"

"I guess you didn't hear me. I'm busy. Can't understand that? Find a dictionary. Knock yourself out."

The raven-haired male couldn't suppress snickers. Shaun used to annoy the living shit out of him (as he put it), but lately, the historian's barbs were nothing more than pokes. "Just wanted to ask you a few questions," he said, pretending to be offended by Shaun's latest attack. "Can't hurt, right? You've got some time to spare, don't you?"

"Ah, not really. We are looking for something that could possibly destroy all of Italy, and-well, I don't know. Maybe even the world!"

Ah. Time to change tactics.

"So what'cha doin'? Looking for more clues on the Rev?"

"I guess you could say that. Digging around in the Assassin Tombs, actually. Hoping to find even the smallest bit of hint in regards to the Revenant's location. As of right now, we don't even have a bloody idea on what the trinket is."

"Well, we know it can't be a necklace."

"Oh piss off, Desmond. Leonardo wouldn't have put so much heart into a bloody necklace. It's got to be something more. Something greater. Perhaps a statue of some sort. Or armor."

Desmond was an expressive speaker. His facial expression and hand movements were enchanting-but unacknowledged by a certain historian, who was secretly afraid of being hypnotized. "Might be looking for a blade, tailored to fit Ezio's every need," the Miles said, and then his face became a Christmas tree.

"Hey! It might be the blade Ezio uses to tear off Cesare's head!"

The Hastings banged his forehead against the keyboard, hands clutching the sides of his head. "Oh, don't go there," he groaned, listening to Desmond's laughter.

"What's your problem? Aren't you an assassin?"

"I'm not bloody well proud of it, in case you've forgotten!"

Silence crashed into their room as a meteor, sending both men into an awkward silence. Desmond occupied himself with the posters on Shaun's walls, while the Hastings inwardly cursed himself for snapping. "Would you do the same?" the Miles asked, his voice much softer than it had ever been before. That spoke volumes, considering Desmond rarely ever lifted his voice-and he could easily charm robins out of their trees.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm asking if you'd do the same. Wondering if you'd be just as angry as Ezio, if your...I don't know. If your guy was badly hurt by the world's biggest jackass."

Not the best question to ask.

Shaun tried his hardest to conceal distress, but failed miserably. "If I knew my lover had been ruined by a heartless bastard, yes," the historian said, wanting his voice to come out in a snap-but it was only slathered in weariness. "I'd do everything in my power to avenge him. You couldn't expect me to just stand by as he spent the rest of his life in torment."

"Ah ha! So you would take up a blade! To protect someone!"

"Not just anyone, Desmond," came the icy response, followed by a sigh. He swerved around in his chair as though delivering the harshest order, eyes sending daggers into Desmond's direction. "I wouldn't run around willy-nilly, taking every life on the street just for kicks. I'd only protect the love of my life."

"Didn't know you were a sap."

"Yeah, well, I'm not related to the Borgias."

Weird, considering Desmond was expecting a harsh 'leave me alone'. "Hey," the Miles said gently, placing a hand on top of Shaun's shoulder. It was instantly cast off, but the raven-haired male pressed on.

"If you're, I dunno, tired of all this, take a break. I'll handle things."

To the outside eye, it looked as if Shaun wished to burst into laughter. "Oh you will, won't you?"

"Yeah. I mean, it seems like Ezio and Leo are wearing you down. Just leave everything to me."

"Desmond," the Hastings sighed, swerving back to his desktop. "how are you supposed to do anything for me, tied up in the Animus?"

"I'll figure something out."

"Your heart's in the right place, but I'm afraid your brain isn't even on this planet."

Laughing, the Miles began to walk away. "Want anything from the fridge? Coffee, vodka, tequila-"

"Not funny, Desmond."

"So what? Want some crumpets?"

Shaun, once again, slammed his forehead against his desk. Desmond stood in the doorway, expecting one of Shaun's usual replies. However, something he did not expect happened. The Hastings lifted his head in chuckles, and was actually-

Smiling?

"Since you wish to make yourself useful, why don't you grab me a margarita?"

"Yeah, sure," the Animus client said, suddenly feeling like flying. "On the rocks?"

"You got it. Don't mess it up, or I'll never let you hear the end of it."

Shaun's fingers continued to stomp against his keyboard, only stopping when the elevator made its move. The historian's heart fell a thousand leagues, none too comfortable with the room's silence.

None too comfortable with Desmond's departure.

Desmond joined Rebecca and Lucy in their makeshift kitchen, whispering the results of his latest 'confrontation' with Shaun. His friends beamed, he grabbed a bottle of cranberry juice, and-

Felt the worst pangs imaginable.

Shaun might have been mere seconds away, but Desmond felt as though he had adopted Leonardo's shoes.

And it wasn't because of The Bleeding Effect.