0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Chapter 14; Those Who Remain

Petruccio Auditore had a problem.

It wasn't something he could tell anyone about—Especially when that someone was his parents, Federico, or Claudia, who had decided the moment the doctors had announced his Leukemia was in remission, that she was his best friend.

At first it had been quite a lot of fun. Claudia was three years older than he was, she had her driver's license the summer his life truly began again, and all she'd wanted to do was tuck a knit hat over his unruly Chemo curly hair and take him to the movies, or the mall, or on road trips to concerts and museums with her three best friends, Miley, Anna, and Courtney.

And for any fifteen-year-old boy, even a fifteen-year-old boy who'd been poked and prodded and examined on a cellular level since he was four years old, hanging around with Women like that… Things were good for him. And he became the most popular boy in his class very quickly.

Then IT had happened. His parents had sat him and Claudia down one evening after returning from the movies and told them that their insurance company was pressuring them to declare Ezio dead.

'He's been missing for seven years,' Their Insurance agent had said. 'It's time.'

Petruccio remembered mother had been bedridden for two weeks after that and refused to leave their home.

For those first two weeks after his parents had reluctantly signed the papers, Petruccio saw exactly what his house looked like without that warm, cheerful hopefulness that had helped him through his illness and had supported him through all the treatments, the fear, the pain.

And he hadn't liked it one bit.

The house had felt cold, empty. And Claudia, who had always seemed more interested in boys and having fun, became a quiet, somber thing who struggled to function.

His father had spent most of his time sitting in his study nursing another glass of wine with his head in his hand and the lights out.

Mother had slept or sat in that shrine like bedroom at the end of the hall, tracing the letters on a Soccer jersey, and sobbing quietly at photographs.

Even Federico became a different person. He ate a lot, a nervous habit of his, and retreated into his books.

Petruccio had thought it couldn't get any worse… And then Uncle Mario had shown up, uncharacteristically silent. And when father had opened the door he'd seemed to disappear into the larger man's arms.

He'd never seen his father cry out of sadness before. There were tears of joy, yes. He'd cried when Federico had graduated High School and been accepted to college. He'd cried when Claudia had gone to prom, and when she'd graduated as well. And he'd cried when Petruccio himself had been released from the hospital and attended school for the first time.

But, he'd never seen his father quietly fold in on himself and just completely break down.

That was the day Petruccio Auditore realized life wasn't fair, and that without hope, you had nothing.

Over the three months following the memorial service, the youngest Auditore was hard at work.

He put away every cent he came across, hiding it in a sock in his drawer, he picked the aluminum cans out of the garbage at school and at home and his father's bank, and on Saturday mornings, would bundle himself against the early winter chill and walk with his burden six blocks to catch a bus that would take him to the recycling center.

By the end of three months he had almost three-hundred dollars, and nine bucks in pennies.

He vividly remembered the look on his father's face when he'd walked into his home office carrying all that money. "This is for the hour the PI finds him."

Giovanni stared at him with a flatly shocked expression.

"The doctors said I would die before I was twelve years old, and here I am. Just because they said Ezio is gone doesn't mean he is. I know he's not, and I'll prove it to you!" He'd pushed the money at his father. "It will only take one hour, one minute, to find him. You and mother didn't give up on me, and I won't let you give up on Ezio. He is an Auditore, and that means something!"

Fear jammed its way into the pit of his stomach just seconds after the words left his mouth.

He'd never been shouted at by his father before, but even just the six months he'd been attending school he'd heard horror stories from other kids in his class of he wrath incurred when one asserted themselves and their beliefs against their parents.

He flinched visibly when his father moved, grabbed him around the shoulders and drew him tightly into a hug.

Giovanni urged him to keep his money, to save it, but he'd insisted with a determination that brought happy tears back to his father's eyes. "I want to do this. I want to bring him home to us."

And therein lie the problem.

That had been two years ago.

Nine years of searching. Nine years of pasting up hope in his mind like wallpaper. Pretty, happy wallpaper like out of a kindergarten classroom.

It was so hard to keep hoping, to keep layering the hope over the despair. It was so hard to put on a happy face when each day that passed made it less and less likely that Ezio would be found.

Petruccio had opened his eyes that morning and discovered he couldn't do it. He fought and tossed and turned and pulled his hair and gritted his teeth, but he couldn't make himself believe it.

He didn't understand what was so different about this day as compared to yesterday. Yesterday when he'd told his friend Eli that he was going to stay home tomorrow with his family, he'd been a preverbal well of hope. Even more so after talking to Eli.

But today… Something was different today.

So he hid under his blankets and dialed Eli's phone number from his cell.

It rang six times before there was an answer, and it was not Eli.

"What!" It was a man in his twenties from the sound of his voice, shouted over blaring music in the background.

"Hi… Is Eli there?"

"Who?"

"Eli."

The man sighed in a very put upon way, then seemed to turn away from the phone; "ELIZABETH! You'd bloody well better be ready, or I promise I will leave you here! I will NOT be late again!"

"Then leave me, see if I care!" Came a muffled reply over the lyrics.

"You've got a boy on the phone, if you want to talk to him you'd best get yourself out of there this instant!"

The music stopped.

"Who is it, if it's that Madison character again tell him I've gone crazy and started calling you Helen."

The man pressed his mouth close to the phone again; "Who is this?"

"Petruccio. Eli and I go to school together."

"Oh." The sound came out like an irritated sneer, and there was a shout over the man's shoulder. "It's that boy you told me about last night… The one you kissed—"

A door slammed open and there was a thudding of feet. "SHOVE OVER! Get your fat arse out of the way!"

Petruccio hid his face in his hand, replaying yesterday's events at high speed as blood rushed to his cheeks.

It had started the year before. A 'New Kid' as his desk partner had said. Petruccio had looked up from his Trigonometry book, and seen a head of shaggy ginger hair set above the standard white polo shirt of the academy's male uniform, and tattered, worn looking checkerboard Vans at the ends of long khaki clad legs.

At lunch, being the friendly ambassador of the Junior class, he'd sidled up to what he'd expected to be an ordinary boy, probably interested in loud music and skateboarding if the side swept moppish haircut, baggy clothes and aloof slouch could be trusted.

Petruccio was an excellent judge of character after all.

"Hello, My name is Petruccio Auditore, do you mind?" He motioned to the chair across the table. He noticed right away the redhead hadn't had any lunch, but blue green eyes had peeked out through ruffled bangs at him and there wasn't any protest as he'd taken a seat. "What's your name?"

And then in a British accent; "Elizabeth, you can call me Eli."

He'd almost choked, and his eyes bugged. "Oh, n-nice to meet you."

He and Elizabeth had sat together every day since, and slowly, Petruccio had found himself becoming more and more… Fond, of her.

Which felt wrong, because Elizabeth didn't act like a girl. She played video games, rode around on a skateboard, cursed and stole her older brother's cigarettes. She liked scary movies, hated shopping unless it was for video games or skate equipment, and took jellybeans from the bowl on their home room teacher's desk to feed her pet ferret.

And yesterday when he'd told her he wouldn't be coming to school that day because it was his missing brother's birthday… She'd kissed him, right on the mouth.

And as exciting as it had been, looking back on it he felt kind of… weirded out, because he wasn't sure if he saw her as a girl, she was his friend, someone he did stupid things with during afternoon break, someone he shared dirty jokes with, or shared his lunch with because she never brought one for herself.

Elizabeth wasn't a girl, she couldn't be! She was Eli, his friend, his… His… he wasn't exactly sure what to call their relationship. Complicated seemed to fit the best.

"What's up? I thought your family was on lockdown today?"

"That's the problem…"

In the background Elizabeth's brother called out to her in a singsong voice; "I'm leeeeaaaving yooooooooooouuu!"

"Fly awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay theeeeeeeeeeen! You wicked little winged monkey…" She sang back at him. Then her voice seemed to grin. "I got my peeeeeeeeereiod this mooooooorniiiiiing—"

"Why did you think I needed to know that? What ever gave you the idea that I needed to know that?" Her brother whined.

"Because I'm out of product."

"Can't you go and get them yourself?"

"I'm a seventeen-year-old girl in a strange country, in a city full of, as you call them 'Crusty Ruffians'."

"You can't be serious—"

"You're going to be late."

"You… Fine, no television, no internet, and keep that bloody ferret in its cage. I'll bring some carryout for supper… And your—Things."

"Thank you, Sir Wanks-a-lot!"

Petruccio could just imagine her saluting, and felt somehow lightened by that fact.

Elizabeth had a way of making him feel that way. Light, as if nothing in the world could touch him. He didn't have to worry about anything, didn't have to fake his smiles because she seemed to draw them out effortlessly.

"Right, Pet, what's the matter?"

It hurt to say it, to admit what he and his family had been fighting to prove wrong.

"I think my brother's dead…"

Elizabeth grew silent, and he heard the creaking of her Ferret's cage as she pulled it out. "Ah… Want some company then?"

"Your brother just said you couldn't—"

"He also said I couldn't watch television, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him. You don't mind if I bring Snowman do you? Of course not. I'll be over in a few minutes… Ciao!"

"Nowaitaminute!" But the line and already gone dead in his hand.

He sighed and stowed his phone under his pillow.

It wasn't that his family would mind him having one close friend over today, they allowed Claudia to have her boyfriend, whoever that may be at the time, and they'd allowed Federico to have his girlfriend, again, whoever that may be at the time, but with Petruccio it was different.

He'd told his family Elizabeth, ELI, was a boy.

He avoided his family as best he could for the forty-five minutes it took Eli to get across town on the bus, it wasn't very hard, everyone but his parents were still asleep, and the softly whispered Italian from the kitchen let Petruccio know where they were. It was easy to creep outside to meet her.

She arrived as she usually did, fifteen minutes late, wearing a gray hooded sweatshirt out of which her Ferret peeked, gnawing happily on a jellybean. Her jeans were tattered, torn off just below the knee, and a cigarette poked out the corner of her mouth.

"Snowman had to stop for walkies, sorry."

Petruccio shrugged noncommittally and scooted over on the stoop to give her room to sit.

Snowman, made a growling noise and wiggled free of her hoodie, a little bell on his harness jingling as he scurried around, back arched, on the stoop. Crawling into one of his mother's flowerpots and digging a little hole to do his business in.

"Ah, sorry about that, he thinks its one of my brother's plants… I taught him to do his business in them so I don't have to clean his cage as often."

Petruccio shook his head and bowed his ear against his knees. "I hope you can stand boring, we usually just sit around and eat all day… And if I'm lucky Dad'll forget where he put his wineglass and leave it out."

Eli chuckled and flicked her cigarette butt into the street. "Not that much different than weekends with Sir Wanks-a-lot. Only you've actually got acceptable food in the house."

"Why do you call him that?"

"Because I check his online history every time I use the computer. And nine times out of ten there's pornography or adult toys."

Petruccio rolled his eyes. "And how old is he?"

"Twenty-three… Do you think your sister would want at him?"

"She's sworn off men again. And then you'd be like, my niece or something."

"EW!" She swatted him on the back of the head; "Don't be disgusting… He's not my father, he's only got custody over me cause Mum went off the deep end and tried to sell me to her dealer."

"Ouch."

"Nah, he's alright most the time… Unless it has to do with food… He's a total vegetarian, can't even look at bologna without cringing."

Petruccio chuckled into his forearms.

"Oi, what're you laughing at!"

"Nothing, just explains why you don't bring a lunch."

"Damn right, tofu is disgusting! Isn't it Snowman!" She scooped up her ferret and rubbed his nose against her own, then quickly turned toward the door upon hearing a muffled voice. "Sounds like someone's looking for you."

She got a grunt in reply.

Not ten seconds later the door cracked open and out peered Giovanni in a t-shirt and striped red and black silk pants. He took a deep breath through his nose and let it out in a sigh; "Petruccio." His eyebrows were up and his hair mussed, but he appeared to be more tired than angry. "Who is this?" He tilted his head.

"Eli."

"And this is Snowman." She held up the ferret and it dangled in her loose grip like a piece of knotted rope. "Just came over to offer a bit of support."

Giovanni looked pointedly down at where his youngest sat, smirking just the slightest bit. "You can support just as well from the kitchen. Breakfast is ready."

Eli practically shot into the house a quick; "Thank you!" over her shoulder.

Petruccio stood to follow and his father put a hand on his chest, face somehow stern even beneath an amused grin. "I thought you said Eli was a boy."

"I said; 'LIKE a boy'."

"Petruccio."

"Well, she is… Like a boy."

Giovanni patted his son's shoulder and pushed him lightly into the house; "Well go and rescue her before your mother starts making wedding plans… Though I think Federico may thank you for offering her a distraction from him."

"Lucky me…"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Desmond didn't take too kindly to people who purposefully and maliciously lied to him. And it seemed that the 'Helpful' call he'd gotten from his Lit partner, reminding him that their midterm exam was that coming morning hadn't been so helpful after all.

So now Desmond was brooding. Perched vulture like on the stair railing overlooking his wonderful, helpful, rat bastard of a partner's early class, planning to murder him in a most inhuman way.

He wouldn't have been contemplating homicide if the night he'd spent studying hadn't been Lucy's birthday and he hadn't had to call her and say 'I can't make it to the party, I've got a midterm tomorrow and I didn't study at ALL.' He wouldn't have been thinking about dropping down on Shaun's head and stabbing him to death with a ballpoint pen if Lucy hadn't sounded so genuinely hurt when she'd said 'Oh, ok… Yeah, I don't want you to fail, its really important to you.'

Desmond wouldn't have been ready to break Shaun's neck if he hadn't gotten the shock of a lifetime that night as well when he'd been talking to Altair.

As it was Desmond's last nerves were frayed beyond recognition and he was just so angry—

"I take it from that lovely expression on your face you actually stayed up all night studying and I missed your lovely reaction?"

Shaun leaned against the rail by Desmond's hip looking wide awake and pleased with himself.

"You're an asshole… I had to blow off a party and—"

"But you studied?"

"Yes I studied. I stayed up all goddamned night studying and I show up at seven thirty but nobody's there!"

"But now you don't have to worry about studying for the exam next week." Shaun pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, scrutinized the number of thin sticks still in it and grumbled as he pulled one out.

"What part of 'I had to blow off a party—My GIRLFRIEND'S BIRTHDAY PARTY!' do you not understand?"

Shaun snorted and opened his mouth; "You mean your beard…"

Desmond spluttered; "You—"

"Oh, don't act so surprised. You're no more sexually attracted to that girl than she is you."

"I'll have you know, she's very attracted to me."

Shaun patted himself down for his lighter and spat a curse between his teeth when he couldn't find it.

"She's all over me when we're together!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah! Can't keep her hands off of me!"

"Desmond?"

"What."

"Shut your cocktrap and give me a light."

"Fuck you, Hastings." And he took a little leap off the railing, landing on the sidewalk where he walked quickly away his face feeling hot.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you…" Shaun gave his back the two fingers and grumbled as he turned and started asking random people exiting the building if they had a light.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Altair hated running barefooted. Hate-hate-hated it. But he hadn't had time to do more than shout over his shoulder to someone that wasn't there and take a leap out the window, rolling as he landed on the adjacent roof.

Innumerable rooftops and sharp rocks to the arch of his foot later Altair had to stop long enough to pull his shoes on over bloodstained torn socks, cursing as he just tangled the laces into knots and started running again in a confusing, zigzagging path, back and forth, left and right, forward, backtracking. It was almost as if the boy didn't know where he was going, but was just running like a scared rabbit.

Six more roofs and he saw the boy disappear, when he managed to get to the ledge he saw him climbing unsteadily down the side of a building, cursing quietly before his hands and feet slipped and he fell the last ten feet, legs buckling in an unhealthy manner as he hit the earth.

Running across rooftops was one thing, but actually practicing Parkour was a different thing entirely.

Almost anyone could run along a rooftop. If you had good balance and legs strong enough to propel you across alleyways, you could do it. But there was an exact science to Parkour. A way of life, a way of thinking, almost a religion behind it.

And Altair had been a true believer for eight years.

It was sad to just stand there and watch from the rooftop as the boy climbed slowly to his feet below, growling, trying to run, only to stumble and fall again. Ending up crawling and tucking between the wall and a dumpster, head on his knees.

Altair climbed slowly down to join him, sizing the boy up, sure of his footing before he continued. Most of his weight on his arms. His chest felt tight as he approached, dropping into a crouch about six feet away, a streetlight somewhere behind him casting just enough orange light that he could tell the boy's exposed right ankle was setting just to the left of straight and swelling rapidly.

The closer Altair got the more the boy shook and the quieter he became, until finally, just an arm's length away from him, his head lifted, and there was no mistaking him any more. No telling himself that it was just some kid who looked like him, no more fear that he would be too late.

Because there he was…

And he was stoned out of his mind.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0