As I said: it does contain spoilers to the first and second season, but it's an AU from some point. Enjoy!

"It felt surprisingly civilized," he said quietly, "to be your ally."

I licked my lips. Over the past few months I'd gotten used to the always present salty taste in my mouth but this - among a lot of other, maybe more important things - was going to disappear in mere hours. The shape of land was slowly appearing on the horizon and I felt sick just thinking of Italy. The excited shouting of sailors was just making it worst.

There was a lot I could have said. A lot I should have. I wanted to convince him to change his mind. To stay in Florence or at least away from Rome. To forget about the Pope. To stay with me, with us. We made a great team - a surprising fact, but a fact nonetheless. Nico already respected him and Zo could, with a great effort, get used to his presence.

But there was also anger burning inside of me that I couldn't push away. Disappointment. Bitterness. A part of me wanted to get up and punch Riario in the smiling face (why he was smiling like that? So genuine, so sad?) The other wanted to do it with myself - after all I was fooling myself. He wouldn't - never would - want to stay with me. He made his choice. He would just laugh because even lost he didn't need anyone, certainly not me.

"No," I said aloud, trying not to sound too frustrated. "We may have survived this journey together, but in a few moments, any alliance we may have had will come to an end."

For a second he looked hurt. Like he was going to fight, argue, disagree with me. But he didn't. He was smiling again in no time, this time even sadder than before. Or maybe I was just going crazy, starting to imagine things.

He nodded his head and I looked away, couldn't bear to look at him anymore.

"Stay with me," I didn't say. And to an end it came, just not like I had expected.

The fact I couldn't sleep did not suprise me.

I was just so well rested. The journey back to Italy was a long a long one and there wasn't really anything I could on the small ship. Yeah, I could talk to everyone (like Riario), I could take care of injuries (but they didn't happen so often) and I could try to repair the stupid head (not succesful at all) but it barely covered a half of a day. For the rest I had to do something with myself and so I napped. I slept and slept until I became sick of it.

I sighed, looking at the ceiling. Who knew how long have I spent in my bed, twirling and twisting. Hot air was floading through the open window, along with the sound of celebrations. People were still singing outside, drinking, festing the sweet fact that Florence was free once again. It had been a week already and things were slowly getting back to normal (as normal as they could get without Lorenzo) but the happines carried on.

Maybe I should just join them. Have a drink or two.

I got up and put my boots on. My vision was blurry and I crashed at my desk, making papers fly, but eventually I found the stairs. Yawning, I reached my workshop without killing myself. I shivered - damn, it was so cold down there! - and started walking towards the doors.

Someone ran just behind me, out of the reach of my vision - but I could hear faint footsteps and a rapid breathing. I turned around, my heart suddenly beating like crazy. I spotted a shade near my shelves, but it was too dark to recognise who the hell it was. I made few uneasy steps towards it but it just moved away.

"Who the hell is here?!" I said, trying to sound angry. To be angry. It was probably some stupid thieve trying to still my works, using the darkness of a night as a cover.

"It's just me!" I jumped, quickly turning around again, reaching for the sword. But I didn't draw it out. There was no danger. It was just confused Andrea, standing right next to my desk with a damn candle lightening his face. Either he just appeared - but it wasn't likely, I would hear him - or I had just missed a light in a completely dark room. Didn't know which was worst. "Sorry if I scared you."

I glanced towards the shelves again. There was noone there, no strange shades, just old wood and some stupid projects. I gulped, running a hand through my hair, and closed my eyes, trying to even my breathe but calming down proved to be difficult.

"Leo?" Andrea asked, now souding concerned. He lifted the candle and walked towards me, the light dancing around the workshop. "Something's wrong?"

"I... No. I just thought I saw somebody. Have you... Was there someone with you?"

My old maestro looked around, furrowing his brows.

"No, I'm alone. Have been for the whole time."

I hesitated. I really did see something but if Andrea really was there, nobody would be dumb enough to try anything. Which lead me to an unpleasant conclusion - I freaked out over some shade in the darkness.

"Never mind. I must have heard someone from the street." I approached him, faking a laugh. He smiled back, a little hesitant, still looking at me with concern. But it was alright, I was alright, it wasn't even cold anymore. "Not like I mind, but what are you doing here? It's the middle of the night."

"More like a beginning of the dawn. But anyway, this," he pointed at the Bronze Head standing at the desk and I held back a groan, "keeps me awake. I wanted to have a look."

Staying with Andrea and trying to find a solution together would be a great idea. I should want it, too. But the damn thing was getting me frustrated and thinking about things (and people) I did not want to think about. A puzzle that hard usually got me jumping with joy but this time I just felt tempted to grab it and throw it at the nearest wall.

"I need a walk," I said, mumbled even, and dashed toward the fresh air. Andrea shouted something after me but his voice already died out, lost in the singing at the streets.

It really wasn't supposed to be a long walk. I wanted to just circle the workshop, calm down a little and go back to help Andrea. Somehow I ended up at the completely different side of the Florence, with morning light bright enough to draw. Of course I was near the river and its calming sound of waves crashing at the shore.

I sat down at the ground and stretched my legs a little, staring at the muddy water. Almost mechanical, I fished a piece of paper and a charcoal out of my pocket. Surrounding was nice enough and I could draw the nearest bridge and the people crossing it.

Halfway through the sketch I realised that it was not what I intended. Instead of my previous plan, on the paper a familiar ship was beginning to appear but I was alright. Even the movement of my hand gave my comfort, it didn't matter-

"I killed Zita to save you."

The charcoal fell out of my hand and rolled down, almost ending in the water. I jumped up, looking around rapidly.

The voice, the words - it wasn't just a memory. It wasn't like the nightmares that haunted me ever since Riario came to me, broken and angry. I could tell dreams, bitter reminders of the past, and reality apart. And this, this was real. I could hear his voice, feel his breath on my neck, like he was standing right behind me. But he wasn't, there was nobody there and I was alone.

"That wasn't strange at all," I said aloud, trying to convince someone. Probably me. I put the drawing in my pocket and headed down, trying not to stumble on anything. A swim in a river really wasn't something I wanted. I reached for the piece of charcoal and lifted it up, frowning at the mud covering it.

"Will kill you myself," someone whispered.

My foot slipped and I completely lost my balance, landing in the river. It was cold and even more muddy than it looked - at least the water didn't even reach my shoulders so I couldn't drown. Still, I got up quickly and crawled back on the solid ground, feeling my heart speeding up. I ran up, the piece of charcoal forgotten, and looked around. Still, no one there, except some old begger walking down the street. He wasn't the one repeating Riario's words, that's for sure. I smiled to him, trying to whip up some of the filth.

"Have you seen someone here?" I asked, gaining his attention. "Except of me, I mean."

He slowly shook his head, looking at me like I was crazy. I sighed and tossed him a coin. As soon as he got it, he quickly hurried away, not turning back even once.

I sighed, losing the smile. Nothing changed but the streets didn't look so welcoming anymore. They was colder, more distant. I shrugged, a shiver running down my spine, and headed back to the workshop.

Zo leaned on my shoulder to cast a glance at what I was writing and snorted. "Don't tell me you still torture yourself writing like this."

The warmth of his body was really soothing. For the last couple days I was as jumpy as a man could possible be, slowly starting to believe that I had to caught some kind of illness. Seeing things, rapid temperature change - it was not at all normal. But Zo was. Zo was solid and comforting. Real.

"I'm not. I know writing is painful for you, but not everybody has this problem."

He pouted, faking being offended but quickly nudged me playfully.

"I'm not talking about writing in general. I'm saying writing from right to left is damn stupid."

"You say that only 'cause you cannot read it," I smirked, leaning back on his shoulder so he couldn't poke me anymore, not that I really minded. "Which was my intention, by the way."

"Cruel. But you know. Bring me a mirror and I will read every fucking thing," he said almost proudly, earning a look of fake terror from me.

"So now you know, you genius." I quickly turned around to face him completely, escaping his grip. He reached out for my notes but they were already safely hidden behind my back. "Took you long enough. You know, considering the fact that I was not even the one who invented mirror writing in the first place..."

"Let me celebrate my victory for once, asshole!"

I laughed at his serious face and he quickly joined in. I sat on the top of my desk, looking at the papers without much enthusiasm.

"I wish I was as victorious as you," I mumbled. He frowned and sat beside me, not yet touching, but I was in the reach of his arm. "No luck in repairing the damn thing."

"You should just let it go." I opened my mouth to protest but this time he was way faster. Bastard. "Just for a while. No offence, Leo, but you look like shit. More than always, that's it. And the workshop? I almost got lost in this mess."

I looked around. The papers were everywhere - on the floor, on the desks, even on the bed. Some were old and some new, most related tothe Bronze Head. Fireplace was cold but some wood was still there, half burn. A bottle of wine was open, with full glass next to it and a whole pack of buzzing flies gathered around a basket of not so fresh fruits. I licked my lips.

"It's just... To important to stop."

"More important than your health?"

I knew what answer would please him, what he was expecting. He wanted me to agree with him, maybe even lie if it was necessary. But I couldn't.

"I'm fine, Zo. It's just-"

"Artista."

Suddenly the world stopped and I completely forgot to even finish the sentence. It was not important. I spotted something moving, somewhere in the corner of my eye, a dark, black, human shape. I jumped up, turning rapidly, tripping over my legs. Zo inhaled heavily, catching me just before my head bumped in the desk.

"Leo?!"

I blinked, looking up. Nobody was there.

But it was so cold again. But it wasn't couldn't be, real. It was a warm day, almost boiling hot. The kind of the weather when you just wanted to go swimming, go out of the town and into the wild. But for some reason I had to stop myself from shivering like a madman.

"I... I've just got an idea," I lied quickly, scared. I stepped away from him, away from his warm hand and into the freezing cold. I started writing some nonsense in my note, faking being fine and failing miserably.

"Fuck, Leo, stop scaring me like that!" he shouted, raising his arms. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"I'm not blind, tell me." He slowly came closer, so I just moved away to the other side of the room.

"Nothing!"

"Leo-"

"Just get the hell out and let me think!" it felt wrong and stung, but had to be done. I had to lure him out so I could just calm down a little.

"Ok, ok, fuck, sorry for worrying!" he barked and probably rolled his eyes. And left me alone, mumbling something to himself about ungrateful artists and miserable fate.

I forced myself to keep breathing, to keep guilt from taking over. I quickly walked over to the place where I had seen it. Or maybe him. Maybe Ria- ... No. There had to be another explanation.

I almost choked at the sight of the small puddle at my floor. I crouched to sniff it and frowned, disgusted. It smelled like a muddy water, a river or a lake.

And there was a faint scent of blood.

"It's not strange at all," I whispered.

"I really could help. I think I should." I tried to hide my frustration but it was practically dripping from my voice. "You know, that's what I do. For him. For Florence. Hell, even for my father."

Carlos was silent for a while, as he was thinking. But he wasn't. The decision had already been made. That wasn't going to stop me from fighting, though.

"You've heard Clarice." His voice was neutral. Neither harsh nor sympathetic. "It's pure politics from now on. No machines. No magical inventions. She can handle that."

Carlo liked me; I could see it in his eyes. I also felt it when we had been working together, going through the chimney, risking our lives for each other. But it was not enough.

"I know, I know. But hey, it's not like I can't be a politician."

He raised his eyebrows.

"I'm afraid it's exactly that case.'

I sighed. "Sure, maybe I piss off most of the important people but I befriended Lorenzo."

"After many attempts to take your life, as I heard. Da Vinci, please. When your presence is needed, I will send for you." He looked at me, a little bit irritated. I just rolled my eyes and opened my mouth, but he was quicker. "Go home, get some sleep. You deserve it. Goodbye."

He turned around and walked away, into the palace. The guards at the each side of the doors were looking at me, ready to stop me should I try something idiotic. But I just watched him leave.

My father made sure I was used to comments like this. Yes, I was the smartest man in the whole Florence but nobody really needed me. Usually it didn't bother me, not in the slightest, but in times like that - when I desperately needed to do something to make a difference - it was so annoying.

"You shouldn't have declined my offer," Riario's voice said. "It would be so different with me. I wouldn't treat you like this."

I didn't even twitch. For the past few days I did everything in my power to stop paying attention to it, whatever it was. Even though it was always there, in the back of my mind, never out of but never really in my sight. Ignoring it wasn't that hard.

But it was getting worse.

Getting some sleep was probably a great idea.

For a while I kept telling myself that I had plenty of rest on the ship, yes, some small naps would do. It took some time - and Carlos's words - to make me realise it had been three weeks since we'd returned to Florence and I was tired, almost worn out. I didn't head straight to my bed, of course not. First, I had to make sure that absolutely nothing else required my attention. After a few minutes of wandering around my workshop, I had to admit my defeat.

I didn't close my doors in hope that someone would just storm inside and give me something to do. I pushed everything out of the bed and then lied down, closing my eyes. It felt good. Warm and comfortable. I found myself drifting off almost immediately.

I jerked away. I blinked few times, trying to adjust to the dim light and find the reason why I was still awake. Then I realised - I was too cold. I pulled my blanket closer and sighed, turning around.

Cold. Cold. Freezing. I groaned, sprung out of the bed and rushed to the window. The sun was still up and the evening seemed to be pretty warm. I looked around, suspicious, but there was noone there. Not even a faint shape. I shrugged, deciding to get back to sleep.

When I wake up again, I felt even more tired than before. Probably not enough time had passed. Or maybe too much.

Damn, it again was freezing. And... Wet? I opened my eyes.

It was dark and I couldn't see anything, but I wasn't in my bed. I felt like I was floating, probably in water. So, unless there was a giant flood in Florence, I was still asleep. I relaxed. I couldn't see the surface, didn't know where it is, but nothing could hurt me in my dream. I started to sink, getting lower and lower, so tried to swim up. Only I couldn't, I could just stare at the dark world and wait.

My lungs began to hurt. The water was filling me through open mouth, which refused to close. I coughed, starting to shake, staring to struggle, to get to the surface. My lungs burned but it was my wrist that were on fire. And it wasn't water that filled my throat. It was blood. There was blood everywhere, a lot of it and I was choking, trying to get it out of me, because God, it hurt...

I gasped, pushing myself up, stopping a choked scream. I raised my arms and looked at them closely enough to be sure that they were fine, that I was fine, I wasn't wounded. There was no water. I wasn't even wet and I could breathe again. I looked around, my vision blurry, but at least I could see, because there still was some light. I stood up, feeling dizzy and almost vomited. The taste of blood was still there, still in my mouth, even though it didn't make any sense.

I wasn't surprised to spot a dark figure standing in the corner of the room.

"Just go away!" I shouted.

And for now, it did.

I was to shaken up to leave the room (if someone saw me like that, they would most likely tie me to the bed) or go back to sleep so I just started drawing. It took few hours to calm down completely - by the time my hands stopped shaking, it was already early in the morning. And I had ran out of charcoal.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes. The very though of not having all materials to create was terrifying. I walked out, yawning, and almost bumped into Andrea.

"Hello," he said, strangely aloof. The tension in his voice was just to obvious. Like something had happened. But what? When?

My mind already suggested some scenarios, but it could have been everything. So I asked, "Something's wrong?"

"No, not at all. Just the Bronze Head, giving me gray hair."

I raised my eyebrows, just staring at him, trying to make him talk. But he just held my gaze, crossing his arms. I was too tired to press him further so, eventually, I just shrugged.

"I'm heading to the market." I could probably just borrow some charcoal from him, but I felt like talking a small walk. In a crowd I wouldn't have to worry about the fucking shape lurking behind my back. "Want something?"

"No, thank you."

I walked off. It wasn't a long way and if only I wanted, I could get there in no time - but I wasn't rushing. It was so warm outside and I just wanted to enjoy it, to chase the coldness away.

It took me few minutes to realise that I hadn't even taken any money with me. I laughed in disbelief, turning around. Stealing was absolutely not an option so I had to head back. I slipped in my workshop without being seen or heard by anybody. Which was good, I wasn't in a mood for a small talk. Especially with people who would ask me why I was back so early and maybe laugh at my mistake.

"Leo? Leo, are you up there?" Zo shouted loud even when there was no reason to. I rolled my eyes, knowing that in few seconds he would just storm into room and make some fuss. There was no really point in replying, especially since I was still trying to find my damn money.

"Zo, stop!"

So Nico was there with him and together they were making so much noise. Probably to attract a lot of attention. For what, I did not know. Or maybe I did. Andrea was way quieter, I could hear his voice but not what he said.

"Any chance you know when he will be back?"

I decided to dramatically reveal myself and went towards the stairs.

"We will be gone by that time," Nico hissed. He, for once, was furious. And sad? Angry and devastated. "Come on, Zo, think it over!"

"Hm...? What about a big no? We must tell him. He could use some distraction."

"It will break him even more!"

I stopped, surprised. What the hell were they even talking about? The whole situation was more than worrying. They used to bicker all the time, sure, but this, this wasn't like that. This was serious and Nico sounded almost hateful.

"Break him?" Zo laughed bitterly. "He will be delighted. He hated the fucker, just like everyone else did."

My mind drifted to my father. Was it about him? Was he hurt, was he... Dead? I had to lean on the wall not to fall down and make too much noise.

"No, Leo didn't. You did. Stop being such... Such a selfish prick. He had helped. A lot!"

"Yeah, especially when he tried to fucking murder us all."

"He had changed."

"No, Nico," Zo was furious by this point and something clicked in my mind. "He had changed you. What the fuck had happened on that damn ship?!"

They weren't talking about my father. They were talking about Riario.

"Now, that's not your business!" he used to tell Zo everything. "Listen, I won't let you tell him."

"Tell me what?" My body moved before I could stop it. In a blink of an eye they fell completely silent. They didn't see me coming. Didn't know I was there for long enough to overhear their conversation, to know that they were hiding something from me. "Come on, it's not like I wouldn't find out eventually."

I looked at them expectantly. Nico just turned his gaze away, clearly distressed. Even Zo seemed nervous, even though just moments ago he was so full of himself.

"It's about Riario," he finally said. "He... Rumours say that he's dead."

My mind went blank.

"But rumours are... Well, rumours. We don't even know if that's true." Nico took few steps towards me but I barely noticed him anymore.

"They are very likely to be true. Or we should at least hope so," Zo said and Nico stopped suddenly, turning around. Jumping on the opportunity, I walked out of the workshop and started running.

Riario couldn't... He just couldn't be dead. Gone. It must have been some sort of a mistake. Just a gossip. Riario was alright. He had to be. There was no other option.

And he had been talking to me for the past two weeks.

Was these rumours true? Was he really dead? How the fuck did that happen? Why did that happen? Why did I even care? Why did it hurt so much?

"Artista."

And why wouldn't he just shut up, why did he still talk to me, over and over again? Was I really just mad?

I halted and took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I looked around - the shade was still there but just it. I cleared my throat.

"Count...?" My voice was weak and uneasy. It was ridiculous but if there was a possibility he could be there, I was ready to take. Heck, I just wanted him to appear out of the shadows and laugh at me, saying that he tricked me. Everything to make this nightmare - his voice in my head, his shadow lurking behind, the fucking cold – come to an end.

Nothing happened.

Of course. I sank to the ground, felling small.

"He doesn't mean it, you know."

I didn't even look up, listening as Nico approached carefully. I was sitting at the roof of the workshop, one of my favourite places. I was closer to the sky and sun that way, so the view was nice. There was a time, long before the journey, that I actually thought the building was very high, like a top of the world. The New World had proven me wrong but I still enjoyed going there.

"Oh, he does," I said, kicking a loose brick. "And I can't even blame him, can I? Riario did try to kill him."

Nico sat down next to me and stared at something in the distance.

"I guess."

Nothing changed about him but he was different. Probably we all did. One not simply go to a journey around the world and return the same.

"Is it even true? Or just meaningless rumours?"

"Probably true, I'm afraid," he sighed, closing his eyes. "No one knows how, though."

The Pope killed him or ordered to have it done. That was the most reasonable answer. I had another, at the back of my head.

"Maybe he had drown," I said, letting the idea out. I wanted to chase it away from my head, along with the memory of my dream, the nightmare of slowly sinking. It still felt real and, at the same time, absurd.

Nico looked at me, raising one eyebrow.

"That's one of the theories," he shrugged, "because he was last seen by the river. Or something like that."

A heavy silence filled the air and we just stayed still for a while. I let my thoughts wander around freely, but they stayed with Nico. I was not the only one affected by this news, after all.

"What happened on that ship?" I asked, before I could stop myself. We never really talked about it and that was strange. He used to tell me everything, at least important things and this was important.

"If I tell you," Nico smiled slightly, "will you tell me what's going on with you?"

"That's low."

"Maybe," at his point he was actually smirking and this was so strange, "so, do we have a deal?"

"Is this like a deal with a devil?"

He laughed and slowly nodded his head. I shook mine and for a second he looked disappointed.

"I will tell you, you know. One day. When I'm ready. Now, will you stop?" he groaned and I relaxed. That tone was a lot more like him from the past.

"Stop what?"

"I know that, look, Maestro. Stop. Now. What happened with the Count, it's not your fault."

I furrowed my brows, taken aback.

"I don't... I don't blame myself."

But as soon as the worlds fell out of my mouth I realised that they were a lie. Guilt was there, burning and twisting. Because I didn't stop him from going back to that hell. Because I didn't say anything, didn't even try and now he was dead and it was...

I turned around just in time to catch a glimpse of a dark figure. It disappeared, yes, but much, much slower than usual. I could look at it for few seconds, stare at the face of the man that I knew so well.

"Leonardo?"

I glanced backward.

"Zo."

He was walking in my direction, running hands through his hair. Few seconds passed and he already swallowed for the third time. In other circumstances I would have laugh at him for looking so miserable and guilty but... it wasn't a right time.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm drawing," I said, struggling to keep my attention on him. It just kept drifting away.

"You are?" He raised his eyebrows, looking at the paper on my desk. "'Cause it doesn't seem like a drawing for me."

I followed his gaze, a little bit confused - I was sketching the Bronze Head for the past few minutes, trying to find some, any ideas.

'I need your help,' was written on a piece of paper, definitely by my hand. Yet I didn't remember writing it. I haven't. Couldn't. I would know. I was drawing, shit, and now my work has disappeared?

"Y-Yes," I shrugged, snatching the paper of my desk. It was cold enough to make me drop it. "Of course I am!"

Zo opened his mouth, surely with the intention to ask me what was wrong. I sighed, mentally preparing myself for a argument.

"Want to hear how it's going to be?" he slapped my shoulder and held me in one place before I had a chance to flee. "I'm going to kidnap you."

"Kidnap...?"

"Hell yes. You've been acting like a fucking ghost for way too long," he spinned around and walked towards the doors, stopping when I didn't follow. I was a little suprised but also relieved. "Don't even tell me you don't want to get pissed drunk. Come on, I don't want to drag you there!"

I smirked, feeling a little more at ease than I had in a long time.

"Don't even try to fool me, Zo. You just want my money."

"What? No!" he raised his hands defensively. Finally, under my harsh stare, he confessed. "Well, maybe, but that's not the point there. You need a distraction."

I nodded.

"Okay. But do go ahead, I need to finish something here."

"Take your time," he stopped in the doors and looked back. "Or perhaps not. I don't want to wait there for an hour. Will be downstairs."

I waited until he left me alone and took a slow, shaky breath.

"If you want help," I groaned, "try to be more clear."

Of course nobody was there to answer that. No voices in my ears anymore, no lurking shadows. Ghost didn't exist. Dead men didn't suddenly walk around, harassing poor artists. There had to be another explanation, like poisoning or exotic illness.

I walked out of the room, feeling dizzy. I spotted Zo next to one of the Andrea's apprentices, most probably flirting with him. I rolled my eyes, smiling a little and opened my mouth to call him.

"It would be so easy," my hallucination said, "to take a knife and just kill him."