Chapter Text
Ezio didn’t fail his contracts. He was far too skilled and lucky for that; he always succeeded but today it seemed his luck had finally run out. He had been following this man for damn near two weeks waiting for him to give up any sort of information or for him to wander into a back street alone so he could be cut down but he had been incredibly careful. He kept his body guards close and spoke too quietly for Ezio to overhear from the rooftops, as well as covering his mouth with his hand so his lips could not be read and he was careful to avoid crowds that the assassin would have been able to blend in with. He seemed to know that he was being stalked and took convoluted ways to his destinations until he had finally lost his tail. It pissed Ezio off bad. None of them knew how this man tied into the templars’ plans, but it was obvious that he was instrumental in them somehow. Even if they hadn’t known it before, the way he was avoiding the assassin definitely would have tipped them off. Mario had been certain that taking out this man would be a serious blow to their enemies and this had been the first time he had been seen in months.
Not that it matters now, Ezio thought, bitterly. He had already put far too much time into this contract and now he was crouched on a bell tower flicked into his sight hoping, praying, to find even a speck of gold on the street. But it was getting late and the crowds were dissipating and he had been up here for nearly an hour with absolutely no luck. He was losing steam. He wasn’t sure when the last time he slept for more than an hour or ate a proper meal was and it was beginning to take its toll on him. Honestly it had been taking a toll but he had been too busy to notice up to this point. He sighed and stood, stepping off the platform into the night and watching the horizon flip as he righted himself. He felt the wind whip his back and heard the fabric of his hood flapping against his ears as he fell freely just before he landed softly in the hay below him.
He knew he needed to find somewhere he could actually sleep through the night now that he finally had the opportunity to. There were a few places he could go like the bordello or the guild, but he had a hard time relaxing in those places for different reasons. The guild was safe enough but the thieves there were - after all - thieves and he already didn’t own much; he wanted to keep what he had and the bordello simply held too many…distractions for him to be able to get any rest. Of course he could also sleep in the rafters of any number of churches, but he was pretty sure that tomorrow was Sunday and he didn’t really want to be stuck listening to mass before he could sneak out and work on next steps.
That leaves the workshop, he thought, an unbidden smile springing to his lips.
He forced himself to his feet and started the short journey to Leonardo’s. He didn’t really want to bother the painter this late, especially since he had nothing to offer other than his presence, but he knew he would be safe and be allowed to get the rest he needed. He also knew that Leo would feed him and look over his equipment to make sure all of it was still in an acceptable condition even if Ezio insisted he didn’t need to.
Leonardo’s home was probably Ezio’s favorite place in all of Italia. It was comfortable and quiet and best of all, there were no expectations there. All Leo ever asked of him was that he took the rest he needed and ate at least a little bit. It was nice. It was grounding. It was a balm against the cruelties he endured and the responsibilities that had been thrust upon him. He had long since stopped trying to ignore the allure of the place and he found himself in Leonardo’s company whenever he had the time, which was not nearly as often as he would like. Still, he would take what he could get.
It didn’t take him long to get there; he knew the way by heart of course and he had been in the district when he lost his mark. He stood on the stoop but hesitated to knock. It was entirely possible that the painter would be asleep as it was nearing midnight now but he had learned that Leo was a bit of an insomniac and often stayed up late working on any number of projects. Standing out here would change nothing though, so he sighed and knocked softly. He didn’t have to wait very long before the painter opened the door, a confused look on his face that dissipated when he saw who stood before him.
“Ezio,” he said with a smile, opening the door for him to come inside, “so good to see you. How can I help?” Ezio smiled sheepishly and shuffled inside listening as Leo followed and locked the door behind himself. How can I help? repeated in his mind as he entered the building. Leo never asked for his help; he only ever offered it. Ezio didn’t bother trying to hide his smile.
“I’m afraid I have no gifts for you tonight, amico,” he said and the moment he crossed the threshold, each step took infinitely more effort than they had outside. Perhaps this was because he was finally slowing down but he knew it was more likely because he knew he was safe now. The workshop always had that effect on him. As soon as he was through the door, he always felt so incredibly tired, “I just need somewhere safe to be until tomorrow.” Leo smiled and motioned to the chair by the fireplace that Ezio favored and the assassin gladly sat (perhaps “fell” would be a better word for it) while Leo moved to the kitchen to fix him a simple meal.
“You do not need to bring me gifts to see me, Ezio,” he said over his shoulder.
“I will keep that in mind,” he responded with a chuckle. He unbuckled his blades and set them on the side table with his sword and dagger. He always felt unseasy when he took off his armor and laid down his arms, but it was better when he was here. He never slept without his armor on or a weapon near anywhere else but here; not even in the fort of Monteriggioni but the workshop just felt so safe for whatever reason and it always had. Whether it was in Firenze or Venezia, he knew he could always turn up and be protected and he wouldn’t have to worry about the few things he owned going missing in the night or waking to a knife at his back. And he didn’t only like it here because he knew he would be safe but also because Leo had made it clear time and again that he was always truly welcome here. Not because he expected anything from him, but because he cared.
“How long have you been moving?” Leo said, setting the meal he had prepared in front of Ezio. The assassin sighed and ran a hand over his face.
“Too long,” he admitted with a smile that he knew didn’t quite reach his eyes. Leo didn’t mention it as he chuckled and shook his head fondly.
“And how long is ‘too long?’” he asked drily.
“Just a couple of weeks,” he said somewhat sheepishly. Leo chuckled again but didn’t push the matter.
They ate in companionable silence mostly because Ezio was lost in thought. He couldn’t help but feel badly about his mark getting away and Leo seemed to know he had things he was piecing together. Truly he hadn’t learned much during his time following his contract, but he had learned that the man was important to his enemies’ plans somehow. He had bodyguards that were far more skilled than any mercenary that could be hired on the street. These men may have been bought, but it was far more likely that they were in on whatever plans the future held. They were probably supplied by The Spaniard himself so this man had to be high on his list of trusted allies. It would have been a serious blow had Ezio managed to complete the contract.
Honestly though, he was just glad to be able to rest. He had been pushing far too hard on far too little for the past couple of weeks and he could feel the exhaustion beginning to take over as they ate. It was a battle to keep his eyes open and no matter how he tried to hide it, he knew Leonardo noticed.
“I set up the guest room when I heard you were back in town,” he said, cleaning up from their meal. Ezio sighed and sank further into his chair, letting his eyes slip closed with a yawn.
“I’m not sure if I can make it up the stairs, honestly,” the assassin said, a smile in his voice. Leo chuckled.
“You know a mattress will be better for your back, amico,” he said, flatly.
“My back always hurts, anyway,” Ezio said with a shrug, “you knew I would come here?”
“I had a hunch,” Leo said with a smile and he offered his hands to his friend. The assassin took them and let himself be tugged to his feet with a groan as his armor weighed back down on his shoulders and the ache in his joints returned full force. “You should sleep in tomorrow.” Ezio shook his head as he gathered his weapons.
“As much as I would like to, I should speak with Antonio and Teodora so we can discuss next steps.” Leo sighed as they started up the steps.
“They will still be there later in the day. Besides, I want to look over your things and make sure none of it is going to break on you and it is too late to do it tonight.” Ezio chuckled as he entered his lent room with Leo trailing behind him.
“As you wish,” he said. Honestly he was glad that Leo was so stubborn about him taking the time he probably needed to rest. It was nice knowing that there was someone in his corner that cared more about how he was than what he could do. His other allies cared in their own way, but the mission always came first. He didn’t blame them but it was nice to be somewhere that he didn’t have to prove himself. It was nice knowing that Leonardo wouldn’t ask anything of him while he was here but would offer his help instead, even if the concept still mystified him.
He settled on the edge of the bed and took stock of his body as he began unbuckling his spaulders. He was having a bit of trouble making his fingers work tonight. He was just so tired. Honestly, he was considering just sleeping in his armor. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time, but he knew it had been too long since he had taken it all off. He could feel the bruises that had bloomed on his shoulders and forearms and he knew that this dull ache would only grow to something unbearable if he didn’t unarm himself. He wouldn’t be able to sleep it off if he kept it on, anyway.
“Do you need help?” Leo asked gently from where he stood in the doorway.
“I don’t need it,” he started carefully, “but I wouldn’t say no if you were willing.” Leo chuckled as he came to his side, settling next to him on the edge of the bed. He made quick work of divesting the assassin of his armor. He began with his spaulders then moved to his chest guard being careful where he knew it weighed down on his shoulders and Ezio could feel the familiar pain from the old bruises and scrapes that they had left as the equipment was lifted off of him. Leo moved to his knife belt setting it with the rest of his arms on the nightstand then moved down to his greaves and boots setting them aside before returning to the assassin’s side. He undid the ties that held his robes together and helped Ezio shrug them off without having to be asked. Then Leo took one of Ezio’s hands in his and began massaging his palm. He winced and flinched against his will and Leo frowned.
“You have been pushing too hard, Ezio,” he said softly.
“I haven’t had a choice,” he grumbled, letting his eyes slip closed and leaning against the headboard. “I don’t have time to slow down, amico.”
“You should make time,” Leo said, releasing Ezio’s hand and starting in on the other, “you are going to get yourself killed.” Ezio met his eyes. He looked so concerned, eyebrows screwed together and lips curved slightly downwards as he focused on their hands. It seemed he couldn’t make himself meet Ezio’s gaze. He hated that expression on the painter and he hated that he was the cause of it so often. He sighed.
“I can’t,” he said much more softly than he had meant to, “losing this contract will make things more difficult as it is. I can't make things worse by taking time off.” Leo frowned and sighed.
“You are too young to think like this, you know.” Ezio chuckled in spite of himself.
“I’m already older than I ever thought I would be, amico. Twenty two is the new eighty.” Leo frowned as he released Ezio’s hand and Ezio suddenly felt very foolish indeed for joking about it. He had known since the night he lost everything that he would be lucky to make it to twenty five, but Leonardo always held on to the hope that he would live a long life. He forgot that sometimes.
“There is nothing I can say to convince you to take some time off?”
“I’m afraid not, amico.”
“Very well,” Leo said softly as he stood and Ezio felt a twinge of guilt. “I will see you tomorrow and I will be very upset if you come down before noon.”
“Well I wouldn’t want to upset you,” he said, chuckling. Leonardo smiled as he left the room leaving Ezio to his thoughts. He laid back stiffly and closed his eyes, trying to relax.
It wasn’t as difficult as he thought it would be. It was usually hard for him to wind down when he finally got the opportunity to sleep but it was always easier at the workshop. He always felt so safe here for whatever reason. He never felt this safe anywhere else in the world and he knew it was only because Leonardo was here. Leo was truly the only person in the world that Ezio trusted completely with absolutely no doubts. He had other allies that he trusted, but he was prepared for any of them to realize they didn’t need him and cast him aside or betray him as Uberto had done to his family so long ago. But he never worried about that with Leonardo and he hadn’t had even a flicker of doubt since they met and spent that first terrible night together in Firenze.
When he had lost his family, he had found his way to the workshop after visiting Paola and learning what he could about picking pockets and blending in. The madam had made it clear that he would be able to stay at the bordello if he wished, but he had wanted to be with someone he knew and trusted and Leonardo had been the closest thing he had despite only meeting him once before.
He didn’t really remember the walk to the workshop. All he knew was that one moment he was leaving the bordello and the next he was standing outside Leonardo’s door. He didn’t even know if he knocked or if it was a coincidence that Leo opened the door when he did. But he did remember how Leonardo was there for him. How he let him in without question and how he held him while he sobbed. How he ran his fingers through his hair and hushed him and did his best to keep him from becoming totally despondent. He had listened as Ezio cursed himself and Uberto and anyone else he could think of and swore to avenge his father and brothers. He had silently and patiently endured Ezio’s accusatory shouting when he said there was nothing more he could do that night. He had made him eat something and let him get far too drunk while Leo deciphered the first codex page of many and fixed his blade. He had fallen asleep in the chair across from the older man as he chatted about his different commissions and interests and he let Ezio sleep in longer than he probably should have.
The next morning he woke the young man holding his father’s blade and a butcher knife. He had said the blade required a sacrifice to be used properly and that they would have to cut off his ring finger. Ezio hadn’t thought about how his father still had all ten of his fingers, he simply held out his hand and closed his eyes. Bene. Do it quickly. He remembered how he flinched as Leonardo brought the knife down, and he remembered how confused he had been when the painter missed and began to laugh. I was only having fun, Ezio. And for the first time since everything changed, Ezio had smiled.
He had been so kind to the assassin that night. Ezio would probably be dead if it wasn’t for Leo’s unquestioning hospitality and friendship. He would have gone out far too soon and gotten himself killed by Uberto or his guards. The painter had convinced him to wait until there was an opportunity to get in unnoticed. He had told him that Uberto had to have been just a pawn in a bigger game. When Ezio had finally left, Leo had told him that he was always welcome at the workshop.
Anytime, day or night my door is always open to you, Ezio. For any reason in the world. And it was with wonder that Ezio had realized Leonardo had meant it. He had meant every word.
More than once Ezio had turned up bloody and bruised just hoping that Leo would let him stay for an hour or two so he could collect his thoughts and stop his bleeding before he returned to his work. Every single time he was surprised when Leo would pull up a chair and tend to his wounds, making sure he slept and ate before he left again. Ezio also felt like he could be himself at the workshop. There weren’t many places where he could drop his guard and mess around anymore, but Leo always let him make stupid jokes or try stunts that he knew he probably shouldn’t. He found himself smiling and laughing more often when he was with Leonardo and he was glad to have such a good friend. He felt a smile spread across his face knowing that he would always have someone in his corner as he drifted off to sleep.
===
Leonardo had been worried when Ezio turned up the night before. There was always a brief moment of panic when he stumbled in but thankfully, he had just been tired and sore this time. He was glad that the bandages he had cut and the thread he had bought when he heard the assassin was back in town were still unused in the cabinet, and he was ecstatic that Ezio had agreed to sleep in even if he refused to take the break he so desperately needed. He had known that it was a long shot when he asked and he had been pleasantly surprised when Ezio conceded for the most part. He tried not to feel too prideful at the victory, but how could he not when he was the only person that had ever been able to convince Ezio to take some time for himself?
When he had heard the heralds warning against going out at night due to the assassin returning, he had tried to tamp down his excitement where others felt fear. He knew that at some point the man would stumble in offering a codex page or a tired smile and an apology. He tried not to feel so ecstatic at the knowledge that the assassin trusted him apparently more than anyone else in Italia and he tried to remind himself that it was only because Leo treated him like a normal person rather than a machine or a tool, and not because the assassin harbored any sort of deeper feelings for him. No, Ezio didn’t feel the same way that Leonardo did and he had come to terms with that.
Leo had known he loved Ezio since the first night they had spent together when the painter had done all he could to distract the young man and bring a smile to his still terribly scabbed lips. He had been amazed with the assassin’s determination to move forward despite the ache in his chest and his decision to avenge those he had lost. He had watched Ezio sleep for a bit after he had finished fixing his father’s blade and had been unable to ignore the itch in his fingers as he put the sight before him to paper in a new sketchbook (the one that Ezio now filled). He was beautiful, Leo had realized. His lip was still scabbed over and pink with irritation from his fight with Vieri and his hair was mussed against the chair he was slumped in, his features perfectly relaxed for the first time that night. It was then with elation and horror that he realized the feelings building for the man sat across from him. He had tried to ignore them but every time Ezio showed up out of the blue it was a little harder.
He smiled as he looked over Ezio’s blades. He would have to ask him to use them when he woke up so he could make sure they were still functioning properly. For all his knowledge about the weapons, he was unable to flex his wrist just right to produce the blades and though everything looked okay right now, he needed to know if they still felt right when they were used and he couldn’t do that without actually using them. He could take them apart and check that way, but that would take longer than Ezio would like. He would be impatient to get moving again anyway and with how frustrated he had been last night (though he tried not to let Leo see it), he didn’t want to add any inconveniences to his plate.
He was glad that most of the man’s equipment was in good condition. Great condition, actually. He had to replace one of the straps on his chest guard and sharpen his weapons, but for the most part it was obvious he had been taking good care of all he owned. The only exception was his sword. It was clear that he favored it over his other weapons and it wouldn’t be long before he would have to replace it. He probably should have replaced it by now; the notches from where he parried his enemies’ blows were deep and it was obvious it had been sharpened too much as there was far less material than there should have been, making the blade brittle. There was no way it was still effective in battle and he wondered why Ezio hadn’t replaced it already. It was entirely possible that he wasn’t even aware of just how damaged the weapon was. After all, every scrap of Ezio’s knowledge he had learned on the fly and Leonardo was almost certain that knowing when to replace his weapons wasn’t in his arsenal. He probably didn’t even know that replacing his weapons was a necessity.
It was past noon when Leo finished cleaning and polishing the man’s armor and sharpening his weapons. He had moved to the kitchen to fix a simple lunch when he heard heavy footsteps on the stairs.
“Morning,” Ezio said with a yawn as he entered the kitchen. Leo heard as he flopped into a chair at the table.
“Good morning,” he said, setting a plate in front of the assassin. “How are you feeling?” Ezio shrugged and Leo hated how tired he still looked despite the full night’s sleep he had gotten. The dark circles under his eyes had become a permanent feature of the man’s face and Leo wished he could do something to ease the ache in the assassin’s bones but all he could do was sit back and watch and hope that at some point Ezio would take his advice and stop working for a little while.
“Stiff and sore but fine for the most part,” he mumbled, propping his head up on his hand, “are you satisfied with the state of my things?”
“Mostly,” Leo said with a smile as Ezio began to eat, “though you need a new sword.” Ezio pursed his lips.
“How badly?” Leo smiled fondly.
“Pretty badly. I am surprised it has survived this long, honestly.”
“Great,” he said flatly, the frown that he wore all too often returning to its place on his lips.
“What is it?” Leo asked, genuinely confused. He hadn’t expected this reaction from the assassin. He had assumed that since it was a necessity, the man wouldn’t care all that much but apparently he was wrong. He knew that Ezio didn’t like spending money on himself, but he did when he had to like upgrading his armor.
“Nothing really, I’m just not that sure about what I should look for when I replace it,” he admitted with a shrug and an almost shy smile on his face, “I didn’t even know I had to replace it; this is still the one Mario gave me when I first got to Monteriggioni.” Leo hummed.
“I can go with you if you like,” he said gently. Ezio didn’t like needing help. He thought it made him seem weak and he would do anything not to be seen as weak by his friend and allies. The assassin opened his mouth probably to refuse Leo’s offer then pursed his lips, thinking. Eventually, he nodded slowly.
“Va bene, if you’re sure you don’t mind,” he said, crossing his arms and refusing to meet the painter’s eyes, trying desperately to hang on to his carefree air even as uncomfortable he obviously was at the admission of his lapse in knowledge. Leo felt a strange thrill go through him as he smiled and nodded. He loved that Ezio felt safe enough with him to admit he needed a hand with this.
“Of course. I would not have offered if I did not want to help,” he said sincerely as he began clearing their dishes. Again, he felt warm when Ezio leaned back further in his chair instead of helping. He knew that the assassin felt the need to make himself useful whenever he could and he was glad that he was able to allow himself to relax in the painter’s presence. It made him nearly ecstatic knowing that he had made it clear that Ezio didn’t have to prove himself while he was here and that Leo wanted to help him, not the other way around.
“I should speak with Teodora and Antonio first. I can meet you at the bordello in a few hours?”
“Very well, I look forward to it.” Ezio chuckled and Leo smiled trying to tamp down the butterflies in his stomach at the sound, “oh, before you go will you use your blades and make sure they still feel alright?” The assassin’s eyebrows screwed together and he tilted his head in amused confusion making Leonardo’s stomach swoop. He adored that expression on the man; it made him seem so much more human.
“Of course but don’t you know how to use them?” Leo shrugged and smiled sheepishly.
“I cannot figure it out I’m afraid,” he admitted as he moved to the workshop to grab the blades from his workbench. He heard Ezio get up and follow.
“Put them on, I will teach you,” he said simply from behind the painter. Leo chuckled and turned to the assassin expecting him to be joking, but when their eyes met it was clear he was being genuine. There was a small smile on his lips as he took the weapons and began gently securing them on Leonardo’s wrists.
“Are you sure?” It was Ezio’s turn to laugh.
“You act as if I’m giving them to you for good,” he said, still chuckling. “I know you’re curious, so you might as well let it happen.” Well, he had a point there. It had always fascinated Leonardo how easily Ezio was able to use the weapons. Even that first day after the painter had fixed them, he had produced the blade without much difficulty as if it was second nature. Leo saw how he had studied it for only a few moments before he flexed his wrist, a small tired smile on his lips as the blade produced itself. It was then that Leo began realizing how incredibly intelligent the man was, even as young as he was. He might not have been well read or anything of the like, but he was wise and he was able to figure things out fairly easily. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he liked the workshop so much - there were always interesting problems to figure out here.
Leo chuckled as Ezio finished buckling on his blades and moved behind him, placing one hand on his left shoulder and guiding Leo’s right arm up by his wrist with his free hand. The assassin moved his hand further, gently taking Leo’s hand in his and guiding him to flex his wrist. The painter couldn’t help his startled gasp as the blade sprung outwards. Ezio chuckled and gently squeezed the older man’s shoulder.
“See? Easy,” he said softly into Leo’s ear sending a chill up his spine. They were so close now - close enough that Leo could feel the breaths rolling through his friend’s chest - and Ezio didn’t seem to see a problem with it. He didn’t care that if someone saw them like this they would both be in danger. How strange that he threw out any social standard that didn’t suit him. How wonderful that he didn’t care what others thought of him and his relationships.
“Indeed,” Leo said, forcing himself to focus on the weapon rather than Ezio’s breath on his neck as Ezio slid his hand up the painter’s arm, settling on his shoulder. The blade had slipped out easily and it looked to be in good condition. Indeed, Ezio had been taking fantastic care of the weapons on his wrists. Well, the right one, anyway. It was with a thrill that Leo tried the left and found that indeed it was easy to produce the blade and he felt a bit silly knowing that he hadn’t been able to figure it out on his own. But, yes, they were both in excellent condition (even if they were a bit dirty).
“How do they feel?” Ezio asked, amused at Leo’s fascination. Leo chuckled and nodded.
“Good, I assume,” he said, smiling. He did feel a little awkward as he wasn’t sure how to retract the blades and he didn’t want to accidentally nick the man that still stood against his back.
“Here,” Ezio said, chuckling, as if he had heard his thoughts. He took Leo’s hand again and helped him move his wrist in the same way and the blade slid back in smoothly. He smiled as he began unbuckling the equipment, setting it back down on the workbench.
“You know, it is amazing that you are able to climb with all this weight on you,” he said as Ezio began to don his robes and armor.
“Well trust me if I had a choice I would lighten my load a bit,” he said, wincing as he secured his chest guard and spaulders, “I would certainly have fewer bruises.” Leo smiled as the assassin buckled his blades on his wrists and sheathed his sword and dagger on his hip.
“Do your best not to use your sword until we find you a new one,” Leo said, walking the man to the door as he tugged up his hood, “I would hate for it to break on you.”
“Of course, Maestro,” he said with a wink and with that, he left. The painter smiled knowing that at the very least, he would see his friend later that day.