Afterlife

part five

by Go-Go Spiders

While most businesses in Firenze closed after the sun went down, La Rosa Colta never completely fell silent. A steady steam of clients and courtesans passed through the doors at all hours, day or night. In a way, Federico was glad. It felt less like he was haunting the brothel when things never fully settled down for the night, even if the only two people in the building who could see him weren't around at the moment. His brother was upstairs in one of the spare bedrooms, asleep after almost collapsing from exhaustion after dinner.

That still left one person he could pester.

He found Paola in a large room that appeared to be her office, candles burning around her desk as she wrote in a ledger.

"Paola, I have a request," he said.

She glanced up at him from her book. "Hmm?"

"I'd like to see my mother and Claudia," Federico told her. They were the reason he and Ezio had come to the brothel in the first place - it hadn't escaped his notice that Paola hadn't allowed them to see each other yet.

Paola looked at him for a moment before she nodded. "Of course," she said, placing a white feather quill in a silver inkstand. "I'll show you to their room."

She brought him to a room at the end of the hallway on the third floor. Unlike the other rooms they passed, which had signs on the doors proclaiming them to be 'The Violet Room' or 'The Poppy Room', this one was unmarked. Paola knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in," called Claudia's voice through the thick wooden door.

Instead of opening the door, Paola pulled out a ring of keys from the folds of her dress.

Federico grimaced, radiating displeasure. "Is it really necessary to keep them locked inside?"

Paola sighed as she slid the key into the lock. "I wish it wasn't, but your mother sometimes wanders, and she cannot be seen here by my clientele." With a loud 'click', the lock disengaged.

The room was simply decorated, with two small beds, a washstand, a desk and chair, and a mirror hanging on the wall. A small vase of freshly cut flowers rested on the desk next to a tray of food, one set of plates clean and the other looking as though it'd barely been touched. His mother sat on one of the beds, clutching Petruccio's wooden box in her lap and staring off into the distance, eyes glazed over. Claudia quickly stood up from behind the desk as Paola opened the door.

A wave of relief washed over him as he looked at his younger sister. Just as Ezio had said, Claudia hadn't been hurt. The expression on her face was achingly familiar, so much so he stepped towards her to console her without thinking. But she didn't look at him, her eyes focused solely on Paola. Instead, she walked through Federico as if he were little more than mist or fog.

Federico froze in place, a strange pins-and-needles sensation lingering where his sister had passed through him. Until now, he hadn't realized how much part of him had hoped that she could somehow see or hear him, just as Ezio had. But Claudia didn't have Ezio's gift – from what his father had told him, she was still a little too young for the second sight to manifest itself. Perhaps someday she would develop the second sight, or perhaps not.

"You cannot just keep us locked up here," Claudia said to Paola, her words sharp. "Otherwise I am as much a prisoner as my father and brothers are!"

Her words hit Federico like a solid blow to the gut.

She doesn't know. Neither of them do.

He wheeled around to face Paola, eyes blazing. "You didn't tell them what happened?" he said, his own temper steadily rising.

Paola winced almost imperceptibly but otherwise ignored him. "I'm sorry, but it's not in your best interest to leave at the moment," she told Claudia.

Claudia glared at her, chest swelling with indignation. "Don't you dare tell me what is or is not in my best interest – I'll decide for myself! I am not a simpering little child and I refuse to be treated like one! In case you've forgotten, I am an Auditore, not a weak, helpless flower!"

Federico found himself grinning slightly. His sister had a fierce temper and an even fiercer tongue; it was surprisingly heartening to see neither had been dulled by what she'd gone through over the past few days.

Paola had remained silent through Claudia's tirade, her face carefully schooled to be sympathetic but unyielding.

Seeing that no amount of angry words were going to sway Paola, Claudia let out an angry hiss and turned away from her.

Paola picked up the tray from the desk and glanced down at the plates. "Your mother didn't eat much of her evening meal."

Claudia scowled, looking down at the hem of her dress. "I persuaded her to take few bites," she said stiffly. "I don't know how to get her to eat any more."

Federico kneeled in front of his mother. She had always been so strong and full of life – to see her so broken, so apparently empty was an unpleasant surprise. He reached out a hand to grasp her arm but stopped and hesitantly pulled his hand back. In the strange state she was in, being touched by someone she couldn't see might do more harm than good.

With a quick glance to Federico, Paola left the room with the tray of dirty dishes. As soon as she shut the door, Claudia collapsed down into the chair, putting her head down on the desk's surface. Her shoulders hitched up and down as she began to cry.

It was obvious why she was upset: she was being kept hidden in a place she didn't know, alone except for her mother who still appeared to be in shock. Claudia was sick with worry - for their mother's fragile state and for him, their father, and their youngest brother, who as far as she knew were all still locked up in prison.

It was horrible, watching her cry and not being able to comfort her.

Federico covered one of her hands with his. Although she felt just as solid to him as Ezio did, she didn't seem to notice his touch like Ezio had on the docks. "Little sister, you are so very brave," he told her, although he knew she didn't realize he was there. Even if she couldn't see him, perhaps his presence was still felt in some small way. "I'm proud of you."

He sat with her until her sobs quieted and she rubbed the tears from her eyes. When she got up to blow out the candles burning around the room, Federico drifted towards the door, which presented a new challenge to him - Paola had closed and locked the door again when she'd left.

What was it she said earlier? I need to think like a spirit.

With a deep breath, Federico quickly ran towards the solid wood door, and then passed through it. He opened his eyes to find himself in the deserted hallway, the pins-and-needles sensation he'd felt earlier tingling all over his body.

Paola was waiting for him in her office, rolling the nib of the quill she'd been writing with before between her thumb and forefinger.

"You need to tell them what happened to me, Petruccio and Father," Federico told her. "They deserve to know – it's not fair to keep our deaths from them like this."

In the candlelight Paola looked much older as she considered what he'd said. "Yes, they should be told," she said quietly. "But they should not have to hear such horrible news from someone they barely know."

Federico found that he agreed with her. "No. It should be Ezio."

I found a shimeji (desktop buddy) program that works on my Mac, so now I have a tiny Ezio climbing up my laptop screen. He's extremely adorable. c:

Updates will resume after Easter, since this weekend's going to be a little nutty.

As always, thank you for the reviews, favs and alerts!