He laid his friend down. They were under a bridge, not far from where he had been hurt. Now, he'd have to remove the bolts. With care, he took hold of the first, which was lodged in his shoulder, and twisted it out. Then the next one, which had been the last to be fired and was imbedded near the middle of his back. That took less time to remove. The finally one was stuck in his side, and he had to work it carefully before it came out. When he finished, he flipped him over.

His friend laid almost lifelessly, eyes closed and a thin trail of crimson blood running form the corner of his mouth. He's not dead. He can't be!

A voice! He looked then clenched his hands into fists as he stood protectively over his friend as he glared at the person standing in front of him. He'd kill anyone who'd hurt him or his friend! No exceptions!


Bartolomeo watched as Ezio spung into a crouch, fists clenched and teeth bared in a snarl at him. What ever happened to him, it clearly drove him to the point of insanity! La Volpe was laying on the ground seemingly dead just behind Ezio's feet. But by how this looked, Ezio was protecting him! If La Volpe was dead then... well he'd rather not go there.

"Ezio, it's me!"

Ezio hissed venomously, a peircing glare displayed that should have killed the mercenary captain where he stood.

"Relax, I don't want to hurt you." He took a step forward, then another. Ezio meanwhile made threatening noises and got ready to leap at him! Eyes switching from Bartolomeo's eyes to his sword, Bianca. It didn't take another hint to get what was going on. "Ah, I see." He raised his hands up a moment then pulled Bianca out of her sheath, resting the white sword down behind him. "See, I don't want to hurt you. Now ease up."

Ezio hesitantly stood, never parting his stare from Bartolomeo as if suspitious. Then crouched down beside La Volpe, picking the thief up by the shoulders and proping him up to a sit against the wall as he began inspecting him. Does he not know that he's dead?

Bartolomeo approached slowly, then kneeled down beside him, just looking at Volpe made him cringe. What ever had happened to him probably wasn't plesant. He touched a finger under his jaw, earning a glare from Ezio. Then Bartolomeo bit back a gasp. He was... Alive! It was confirmed was La Volpe groaned something so slurred and quiet, he couldn't make it out.

"Ezio, please. I want to help, will you let me?" He waited to a responce, but he only got a nod. Good enough for him. "Alright, I want you to help me pick him up, I also have to get Bianca. But I don't want you to be scared, alright?"

Ezio didn't reply, he only pulled La Volpe closer him, arms wrapped around his torso and chin digging in his neck.


Dancing on the line of dead and alive, that was all La Volpe could discribe what it was like as. He could barely crack an eye open as he tried to feel through the heavy numb and see through a hazy blur. A face backed away slightly he knew it. "Bartolomeo...?"

Vision darkening again, then he felt himself get moved, and he tried to force his eyes open to see. A muffled moarnful hum filled his distant hearing. And he guessed it was Ezio.

After seeing what had haunted him for years come through his dreams, it surprised him now that he wasn't letting himself just slip away. The thing was, he didn't want to die. At least, not yet. He always figured that if he were to, then it'd be because of a fight with twenty heavily armed brutes, and he was alone and disarmed. If not that, then from an old age. Not from a coward shooting him. Not by some unskilled man with a crossbow and a trigger itch.

He didn't know if it was because of his pride, or that he honestly saw much more point to living that he was fighting for life. Concentrating on getting air in his lungs and making his heart beat as smoothly as he could. Crossbows wouldn't be the death of him, and he'd be sure of it.

Bartolomeo had returned, and he felt himself be lifted up. And he tried to look and see who was holding him, only barely catching a glince of the mercenary captain. He listened as best he could as he heard him say, "La Volpe, hold on. We're going to get you back to Agnolo. You'll be alright." He then heard him add as he slowly blinked, "Stay wake! Umm- count to a hundred or something!"

His voice weak and barely above a whisper, "one... two... three... four..."

"Good, keep doing that! We'll get you back!"

He forced every word past his lips, trying to think on his own vitals, to act like they were getting better with each number. Maybe if he thought that, then it'd be true. Each number only making him feel closer and closer to the darkness again. He could barely force his eyes open, he couldn't think anymore, the numb had finally gotten to him. He murmered the last few numbers he could manage before darkness consumed him. "sixty-four... sixty-five... sixty-...six..."