Istanbul 1511

Yusuf was having a problem – sort of. A pigeon had arrived for him and the damned, flying rat would not let him catch it, he was currently sat on the ground cross legged, a string in his fingers that led to a stick, which was holding up a box with tempting bird food under it. He could be patient. He hoped the note was tied so tight to the feathered creatures leg that it fell off! "Salve, Yusuf...what are you doing? Ezio had already guessed by the elaborate set up but it was amusing all the same, "Problems?"

"...I just wanted to see if this kind of trap would work," Yusuf said as if this was normal, "If it does, we build a larger version and all our problems are solved, evet?

"Would you like me to catch the pigeon?"

"No."

Ezio laughed at the petulance there, the man sounded like a spoilt child and was that a pout on the mighty leader's lips! He approached the bird confidently, kneeling near it – with a crack of aging bones that earned him a laugh - "Come here, you." It cooed curiously as the Master's outstretched fingers, head twitched from left to right before marching to him and being picked up, "Finesse, Yusuf, not everything can be fixed with a bomb...or ridiculous trap."

"Luck." The Turk muttered as he took the note from the bird and unrolled it, "Pure luck."

"No." He said confidently, pigeon now cooing whilst sat on his hand, "Female pigeon – I told you, the women can not resist my charms." That earned him a raised eyebrow and blank stare before Yusuf shook his head and read the message; his disbelieving eyes began twinkling as a little smile played on his lips. "What is it?"

The Turk indicated they walk with a nod of his head, message being slipped into one of the many, many pockets, "My son is on a ship home and he has...companions, a couple of lost Italians he met at the docks in Cyprus. He mentioned they were part of your Brotherhood."

"They should not be, I left specific orders that they carry out their work on that side of the world – were there names?" He knew the answer before he received it, Yusuf's man would not write names or specifics in case the letter was compromised. So which of his men had disobeyed him? "When will they arrive?"

"Two and a bit months? Providing the sea is good to them, Devrim is a magnet for fortune so all should be well."

"Devrim? Your son?" They ducked into an alley as a small group of guards made their rounds, "I did not see you as a terror to women." He smirked at the grin on the other's face, he was such a child at times, "Only child?"

Yusuf shook his head and held up six fingers, laughing merrily at the jaw drop he received, "Five boys, one girl and one wife – Look on your face, Ezio!" The man looked like he was having a heart attack – oh wait, was he? "Are you alright, old man?"

"Si...just surprised, I would have thought to have seen them by now."

"Devrim has been doing some work in Cyprus for me, the two guys who nearly blew their arses off yesterday are mine, my youngest son and daughter 'work' in the palace." They were back to slinking through the streets towards Gelata Tower, Yusuf chatting away about his children, The eldest son being mentioned often but as they got further Ezio realised something and slowed as they cut across the cemetery toward the hideout.

"That is only five children you mention, you have missed one out."

"No, I have not." He came to a stop, something the Italian expected him to do, this spot they stood in, Yusuf always stopped for a moment and then carried on like nothing had happened. Only he didn't start walking again. "I never miss any of them out, he is here," He crouched in front of a couple of markers, "Sef pushes all the flowers to the surface and his mother," He gestured to the other marker, "She makes them beautiful...they died of fever a year or so ago – I try not to remember exactly when."

Ezio didn't quite know how to react. "I am sorry, Yusuf."

"It just pisses me off that it was not something I could fight..." He sounded bitter, his body tight and angry for a moment before he sighed loudly and stood, his usual façade back in place, "What about you, Ezio, any children to speak of?"

"About a hundred bastards or so," They laughed at that, the Turk needed a small distraction and Ezio was happy to provide it, "I helped raise two of them, though. Twins. Their mother was model for a friend of mine and we got a little too drunk; next thing I know, Leonardo is telling me he has rigged my gun to explode on my wrist and that he may or may not undo it depending on my willingness to become a father." Yusuf tilted his head asking if that was what Ezio wanted, "I was excited, this was the first time I was going to see any child of mine, I was thirty two, last male in my line and Carlotta was a catch – beautiful, smart and fiery, my favourite kind. No one ever expected twins, or for them to be so damn awkward. Matteo was born before the midnight bell tolled and then Giovanni pops out when the bell stops – Birthdays are ridiculous!" He'd been so happy though, more than he'd thought he'd be.

Yusuf smiled, he knew that kind of feeling, holding a mewling, puking mess and telling it it is adorable, "Did you Marry Carlotta?"

"No, we did not want to and it suited us fine...I did not love her." Not in that sense, she was close to his heart but never in it.

"But you love your boys?"

"...Si." They'd finally made it into the building and into the library, "Of course I do, what kind of question is that?

"Sooo," Yusuf saw Ezio close his eyes, knowing that when he drew out his words it was usually to drop something on him, "Say if -IF – they were to magically appear with my son on the docks, you, being a loving father would obviously embrace them and welcome them with the biggest of grins – Like a child full of sugar in a pottery shop."

Matteo and Giovanni were on a ship? Matteo, he knew would attempt to follow him, the boy was his personal shadow, and impossibly stubborn when he wanted something and he was strangely desperate to come on this mission. Giovanni though...No, Ezio knew that his youngest was simply following his brother, keeping him safe and grounded – keeping them from getting completely lost. Giovanni wouldn't follow Ezio if he were told to keep away...sometimes struggled to stay in the same room; complicated.

But they had still disobeyed him! "Yusuf, when those boys set foot on those docks – I am going to kill them and then bring them back...and then I will kill them again!"

"...Will you at least cuddle their corpses?"

00

Open sea 10 days out 1511

Devrim glared out over the sea, its rough, grey waters reflecting his mood at that particular moment. He and Giovanni stole moments together in Matteo's absence, kisses, grinding and the very occasional hand inside each other's trousers as they stroked the other to completion. It was good, sometimes very good but it wasn't enough to always be waiting for the older brother to return. Yesterday for instance, had been a nightmare, the second Matteo had left the cabin, Giovanni was on him like a man possessed! He'd pinned Devrim to the support beam, thigh massaging persistently against his crotch and the Italian had used his forearm to pin Devrim there by the throat – he'd nearly messed himself then and there. And then...they'd heard Matteo returning and went back to themselves, both solid as a rock. Devrim had to excuse himself to finish himself, the near choking one of his more shameful turn ons – Like how Giovanni liked being bitten. Not nips and scrapes, bitten. Hard enough to leave an imprint but not break the skin, his chest, hips and thighs were covered in Devrim's marks.

That wasn't the problem though, he could understand their need to be secret, they would be killed if discovered but it was making him ridiculously horny. They'd had a golden opportunity less than an hour ago and one little slip had ruined all the work Devrim had achieved in getting Giovanni to trust him with his body. Devrim had bitten him, enthusiasticly so...directly on that bastard scar – he knew it would be trouble from the start! It was on the wrong side of Giovanni's neck, if it were on the right he could avoid it no problem. It was an accident but it had earned him a bruised jaw and a complete shut down...

"Giovanni?" Devrim tried to pull the man into an embrace but was being fought the entire time. The Italian struggling to get away, his breathing erratic as panic tore at him, "Gio! Gio, I am sorry, so sorry. Please calm down, I did not mean to, shh...I am sorry." He held tighter to the other, still fighting to keep him in the bruising hug. Why wasn't he calming as he had done for his brother? "What can I do?" This was his fault, he should have been careful! "Please stop fighting me – does it hurt? Giovanni!"

"What did you do?" Devrim looked up with wide eyes as Matteo rushed over, taking his brother from the Turk and almost crushing him; Giovanni fighting even his twin as he looked around wildly, golden eyes wide and frightened as he gasped in air. "It is alright, they are dead, no one is going to hurt us." The shaking didn't calm much so Matteo tucked his brother's head under his chin and glared at the Turk, his voice lowering as his hostility rose, "Just get out. I will come find you."

So here he was, waiting for the wrath of the Eldest Auditore to come down on him. What was the deal with that scar – was it painful? It couldn't be just that, what had Matteo said? 'they are dead' what was that all about? Something had happened a long time ago, Devrim had seen traumatised people before and now that he thought about it, it explained everything.

"What the fuck were you doing!" Matteo hissed as he stalked toward the Turk, "I can not get him to talk to me! He is shaking so hard I can barely hold onto him, do you know how difficult it will be to calm him now? If he does not go into shock that is!"

Shit, he hadn't meant any of this, it was an accident, "We...we were..." It would be easier if he could tell the truth, how would Matteo react to his brother wanting men? "Sparring. I grabbed him – I did not think! You need to tell me what happened to him, Matteo, I may be able to help him."

"Are you a Dottore? Do you know how to cure him of your stupidity?" Devrim opened his mouth to answer but Matteo shoved him into the side, fists wound tightly in the assassin's robes as he leant him over the edge, "How the hell do you think you can help?"

If he pissed the other off any more, Devrim was certain he'd be thrown over board, the only reason Matteo didn't have a blade in him was because he was doing what any brother would. He couldn't count the amount of fights he'd picked when his younger siblings were involved, he knew the kind of blinding rage that the other had and he understood, "Matteo...I am not a Doctor, I do know some things about traumatised people though, if I knew what was wrong I could...talk to him?" He thought that was how it was done, sometimes it could be talked out of a person...sometimes the person went insane – it was a little hit and miss.

"Talk." He spat, "Talk! Like that has ever worked – w-we do not talk about it."

That sounded quite defensive to the older man, a slight waver in the word 'we', "You and Gio?"

"All of us; him, me, Padre, our friends – it does not help! And...stop calling him that!"

"Why not? It is a mouthful, like - "

"Shut up!" He shook him angrily, "Do not make a joke of this! It is not funny!" Devrim's hands came up in surrender and Matteo took a deep breath, he was letting his hot headiness take control and that would not fix anything – but it would feel good to knock the other's teeth out. "You can call him Vanni," He said in a lower tone, almost tired, "Leonardo and Mama can call him Gio...no one else and...and we do not talk about it." Letting go of him, Matteo took a step back, his hands threading through his hair in frustration, "I do not know what to do...Leo always helped him." He wouldn't need the artist though if it weren't for Devrim – he knew something was up the second Giovanni stared at him at the dock, like he was frozen. "Bastardo!" He struck out and the recovering man. Devrim not prepared for the attack stumbled toward the edge and in a flurry of mocha material vanished over the side, Matteo chasing him wildly, "Devrim!"

The Turk stared up at him with eyes the size of saucers, thanking his training and hook blade that he wasn't fish food, golden eyes, the same size as his, stared down in shock at him. He could hardly give him shit for an accident when he'd just tossed him off the boat. Climbing up the assassin punched the other in the arm and puffed out a relieved breath, "See how easily a mistake is made?"

"...I am still angry with you..." He swore his heart was going to escape his chest; he made a little gesture on his chest, like opening a little door and breathed deep.

"What was that?"

"I was letting the trapped bird out of my chest..." A look, "Leo used to make us do it when we were little to calm down after a scare – do not laugh at me!"

"Alright, alright..." snickering quietly, Devrim retracted his hook blade and pulled himself together with a smirk, "You two are adorable."

"Shut up..." They were quiet now, Matteo's anger ebbing and Devrim was back to his musings until the other interrupted, "What is that on your blade?

00

Venice 1495

"Leonardo! Leonardo!"

"Leo!"

The blonde artist looked up from his blueprints to stare at the two little boys running into his workshop, he grinned foolishly at them and with his arms wide, crouched to their height as they barrelled into him, "Piccoli angeli!" He hugged them tightly as they both chatted wildly at him, all big, gold eyes, messy hair and dirty hands – the usual for two excitable four year olds. "What have you been doing?" He heard 'wall' and 'mud' and 'Papa stole a horse!' - Ah, they were with Ezio today. That explained their untidy appearance and why they were so hyper active, Ezio always gave them sweets, "How exciting, now go and wash your hands...and your face Matteo, then come back to me." They nodded and quickly ran past.

"Did I hear you call them angels? Because they are anything but..." Ezio sunk down onto the nearest chair with a massive sigh, "'Papa, teach us to climb', 'Papa, we're hungry', 'Papa, I feel sick' followed by actual vomit to illustrate his point. 'Papa, that man wants his horse back'" He hadn't explained that it was a messenger's horse and he needed the guards not to arrest him. He loved them to pieces but they exhausted him! How did their Mother do it? How did Leonardo get them to behave so nicely? "I feel so old, Leo...how did this happen to me?"

Leonardo shrugged his shoulder, "You put your Pene in a woman." It had meant to have been a jab for sleeping with his friend but the absolutely gleeful look on the assassin's face made him do a double take; why did he look so...

"Why would a Pene go in...a...you are very strange Leo." Matteo was gazing up at him in confusion, his face still wet from washing off the dirt. He had the most annoying habit of appearing silently and hearing all the wrong things.

And Ezio was always there to alienate his friends, "Yes, Leo. Why would I do such a thing?" The older twin climbed up onto his father's lap and both stared at the blonde. It was maddening how they looked so similar and both always tag teamed him in awkward conversations. He was not having the 'sex talk' with Ezio's child – wasn't doing it!

"Leonardo, what is this?" And there was Giovanni to save him – blessed boy!

Relieved beyond belief, Leonardo turned away from his torturers and to the boy examining his latest test piece, self propelled objects. "Ah, well this is something I've been working on, Gio." Picking the boy up and placing him on the table, Leonardo began going into detail, showing him how some of the components worked and answering all of the curious boy's questions. Giovanni loved finding out how things worked and the blonde loved showing him, teaching him. Matteo only like the things that exploded and so was content to let his father help him with his reading instead of joining in on the excited chatter about cogs and springs.

00

"Vanni, Vanni...He is so still..." Giovanni could hear his twin clear as day, he just didn't want to uncurl from his protective little ball, he was cold and scared and his neck was throbbing painfully, "Giovanni, parli con me...lo elemosino...please..." He felt a body settle close behind him, hugging him close as a hand searched for his and held it, "Want to see something really clever? Something even uncle Leonardo never thought of."

That sounded interesting. He gave a squeeze to the hand in his, not ready to talk yet but fascinated all the same, "Do you want to see?" A slow nod. Hearing some shuffling going on in the room, Giovanni tightened his grip on Matteo and received a reassuring squeeze back.

Devrim appeared in front of him, a sorry look on his face as he knelt on the floor and rested his elbows on the bed's mattress, "Aşık yüz bulduğu yerde yatar kalır. And I have not been kind...I am so, so, so sorry, please forgive my stupidity." Giovanni was suddenly glad his brother barely spoke a word of Turkish, he vaguely translated it as 'a lover lies down and stays the night where he is treated kindly'. Oddly romantic, it made his coldness melt a little but that might be the Turk's voice or the fact that he knew he wasn't really cold; he just remembered that he had been cold once...

"Your brother told me that you like curious things – how about this?" Devrim extended his arm and released his blade. It looked like any hidden blade until he spotted the addition, an intricately carved eagles head that formed into a hook. "At home, many of our rooftops have ropes spanning across them. This hook allows us to slide along them, we can hook into our enemies and pull them towards us...or to go over them – which is fun, the looks on their faces is better than a cherry bomb in a library."

"C-ch...bomb?" The hook blade was interesting but why would you put fruit in a bomb? He saw the tanned man smile, blade sliding back inside the bracer.

"Evet! It distracts guards, we have many kinds of bomb, not just smoke – I will show you when we arrive, I will ask my father if he will let me teach you to make them...would you like that?" A hand combed through Giovanni's loose hair, he flinched at first and held onto Matteo's hand, "Oh, Gio..." Another flinch, "Vanni...I never meant to hurt you." Silver eyes flicked to glance at Matteo and then returned to him, then quick as lightning he asked, "What happened, Giovanni? When you got that scar what happened to scare you so much?"

Matteo sat up, "I told you! We do not speak about it! What kind of - "

"And who said to keep it quiet?" Devrim snapped back, "What is so damn secret!"

"Papa said..." He could feel them both looking at him and shrunk back into himself, "He said never to talk about it...about what I saw..." Matteo was right. No one spoke about the day their mother died, the day his throat was cut or what he'd seen.

His brother leant over him, his eyebrows drawn in concern, "You saw them kill Mama. That is enough to shock anyone, He only wanted you to forget about it, Vanni." Shaking his head and closing his eyes tightly, Giovanni bit into his bottom lip – That wasn't it. "What then?"

"Il Diavolo..."