Title: Vendetta

Characters: Ezio/Leonardo, previous hinted Leonardo/OMC

Warnings: slash, suggested violence

Summary: Ezio finds Leonardo after a bad break-up.

A normal morning in Leonardo's Venetian workshop was quiet enough. Just the average sounds of the genius pottering around, fiddling with this and that. Normal things; sketching the bird singing on his window sill, or trying to figure out how to breathe underwater. This morning, however, was not an average morning. Instead of exploring the world with the childish enthusiasm he normally displayed, Leonardo was curled in a corner, his head buried in his hands. Tear tracks stained his face, testament to the gut-wrenching pain and icy fear that had formally gripped his heart. Now, however, he was quiet. Whatever was to come would come: there was nothing he could do about it. Some dim corner of his mind noted the sound of a brief, sharp rapping at his door, followed by the creak of hinges. Normally, he would stand up and greet his guest. He didn't move. The rhythm of the person's strides was cautious but purposeful. There was the distinct sound of a sword being drawn. This was it, then. The guards had come for him. The culo had spoken, just as he had threatened to.

"Leonardo?"

Except, he realised, that voice didn't belong to a guard. It belonged to someone far more dangerous. The steps drew closer, and Leonardo thought he heard the sword clatter to the ground.

"Leonardo, my friend, what's happened?" the voice demanded, roughly but not unkindly. Strong arms enfolded around him, pulling him against an armoured chest.

"Ezio," he whimpered, feeling truly pathetic for himself. But soon he found himself spilling everything to Ezio; how he had been in a relationship with another man. How he'd trusted the other man and mentioned his friendship with the infamous assassin, Ezio Auditore de Firenze.

How his partner had then left, disgusted. The last thing he'd ever heard from the man was how he intended to expose Leonardo to the world. Ezio went very still for a while, and for a terrible moment Leonardo thought he was angry.

"His name, Leonardo," Ezio demanded. Leonardo was silent for a second. Ezio repeated his demand. "Leonardo, tell me his name."

"Salai," Leonardo choked out. "Used to be my assistant. Lives just south of the bridge."

Ezio left as suddenly as he had come, leaving Leonardo alone once again.

This time, when the door swung open to reveal an assassin behind it, Leonardo was somewhat more prepared. He had managed to pull himself together somewhat, splashing water in his face (which was horribly red and blotchy) and even having a bite to eat. When the assassin waltzed over, he dumped a heavy brown bag on the table before him. Leonardo stared at it. Judging from the sound, it was filled with florins. Confused, he stared up at Ezio in askance. But then, in typical Leonardo fashion, he was distracted.

"You've got red on you," he said flatly, and Ezio cursed, spitting on his finger and rubbing at the bloody patch on his stark white uniform. Realising this was only making this worse, he stopped, looking back at Leonardo. Both of them returned to the matter at hand.

"That bastardo will not trouble you further, friend," he promised, and despite himself, Leonardo smiled slightly. The pacifist in him was recoiling from what Ezio had just inferred, but more than anything else he was grateful. Both his reputation and his life were safe. For all he may be lonely in to come, for now, he had Ezio. Ezio beamed to see Leonardo smile nervusly, or at least, he did the small half-smile that was the assassin's equivalent of beaming.

"If you need anything, Leonardo, you need only ask. There is nothing I would not do for you, my friend."

It wasn't until after Ezio had left for the second time that Leonardo truly started to consider the full meaning of those words.