Title: Broken

Summary: After Ezio breaks something Leonardo had been working on for months, Leonardo loses his temper.

Leonardo always knew the purpose of Ezio's visits, even before he spoke. If Ezio had discovered another codex page, he came in through the door. On those occasions, he did everything he could to remain entirely professional. Granted, it was often a challenge, but he managed most of the time. The easiest way was to focus entirely on the task at hand. It was easy enough to become immersed in the codex pages Ezio brought: the man who wrote them, this Altair, was very wise indeed. Sometimes he wondered what the man had been like when he was alive, but more often he was concerned at the similarities the man showed to Ezio. He was passionate, that was certain. Like Ezio, he was also a man of contradictions. Being an assassin was more than what he did, it was what he was: yet above all else, he desired peace. It was rare that Ezio was in the workshop for business, however. More often than not he was there for pleasure. When this happened, he would come in via far less conventional methods, and normally at abnormal times. Once, he had come in through the bedroom window right when Leonardo was getting dressed. Even now, Leonardo wasn't sure if Ezio had planned it or not, considering it had been quite some time before either of them had dressed. Another time he dropped in through the chimney just minutes before Leonardo started a fire. This time, however, Ezio had gone too far. Leonardo had turned his back on his work for just a second, just one second, and the assassin had come crashing through the window, shattering Leonardo's extremely delicate work as he did so. It had taken him months to get his work to that stage. Months of painstakingly slow work, destroyed in seconds by an idiot assassin. And did he even apologise? No. All he did was stand up, brush some dust off and try to greet Leonardo with a kiss. What he got instead was a punch in the face. It wasn't a particularly hard punch. After all, as he had explained numerous times, Leonardo was a pacifist: he had no need to know how to fight. It had probably hurt him more than Ezio, but at that particular moment, Leonardo didn't exactly care. The normally peaceful artist got a surge of satisfaction out of seeing the look of shocked hurt on Ezio's face. One of Ezio's hands was gently touching the spot Leonardo had punched, almost as though he couldn't believe it.

"Leonardo, what -"

"Get out!" Leonardo shrieked, furious. This was the last straw. God damn it, he had put up with enough!

"But-"

"No! God forbid you visit me so much as once without bringing half the city guard with you, or even worse, not breaking half my possessions!"

"I'm so-" Ezio tried again, a note of desperation in his voice. If he heard it, Leonardo ignored it. Throwing a particularly heavy book in Ezio's direction, he shrieked words he would later regret.

"Leave, you idiotic assassino! I hate you!"

I hate you. Three simple words he never thought he'd say to Ezio. The assassin's reaction was instantaneous. First, rage flashed across his face. For one terrible second, Leonardo rather foolishly thought Ezio was going to strike. But if he had thought that was bad, it was nothing compared for the pure pain that came next. To put it simply, Ezio looked as though he had had his heart ripped out. His jaw was slack and his mouth was open slightly, too shocked to respond. But his eyes were the worst. Normally, they were bright and lively beneath his hood. Now however, they were dead and lifeless. Without so much as a backward glance, Ezio left and Leonardo sank into a nearby chair. Yes, they had had fights before, but nothing like this. Nothing this... devastating.

Seven days. In other words, a week. That was how long it had been since he had seen Ezio. Leonardo knew this for certain, because he had been counting the days since Ezio had left. His workshop, normally a veritable hive of activity, was still and dusty. The remains of the project he had been so concerned about had not even been swept up as Leonardo instead chose to wait anxiously for Ezio to return. Now, however, he had decided that waiting was not enough. He was going to find Ezio, whether or not he wanted to be found. Considering the man was a master assassin, that may be harder than it sounded, but he was determined. So packing a small bag of florins, he set in his search of the city. The first place he checked was a small rooftop garden not far from his home, hoping Ezio had decided to remain close. Next he headed over to what had formerly been Emilio's Palazzo, to seek the help of the thieves. Neither Rosa or Antonio were there, however, and he did not feel quite comfortable asking the ordinary criminals for assistance. The longer he searched, the more convinced he became that his mission was impossible. If Ezio's enemies had utilised an entire army to search for him, what hope did he as one man have? It was at times like these he told himself:

"Stop it. You will not find him like this, and there is no help in thinking like that. You know him better than anyone. You will find him."

But despite the fact that he had set out midmorning, it was late afternoon before he stopped. His search had gradually taken him to the north west part of the city. Though he did not realise it, he was close to the original base of operations for the thieves. In fact, he was very close, his absent wanderings taking him almost into the heart of their stronghold. As he had never been on alert to such things, he did not notice he was being tailed until far too late. Though he would never admit it aloud, he was frightened. He knew it was not Ezio tailing him (there were too many of them, for one) and he was no fighter. If it was gold, he wanted, he did not have much to give them. It was barely enough to purchase something to eat on the way home, let alone satisfy a thief. Still, there was nothing he could do but carry on and, for once in his life, hope to run into some guards. So he continued, trying to keep his rising panic in check, until a woman's voice broke the carefully maintained silence.

"Stop! He is a friend. Leave him to me."

"Rosa?" Leonardo queried hopefully. She dropped down from the rooftop, her normal grin replaced by an uncharacteristically grim expression. She marched forward, her expression still grim, and Leonardo took a step back, intimidated. Poking him in the chest in an accusatory manner, she demanded,

"Just what did you do to Ezio?"

"I-"

"An entire week he's been hiding here, drunk and depressed! And the only word we've been able to get out of him is your name!"

Leonardo's heart fell. Ezio was really that upset? Merda, why hadn't he looked for him earlier?

"Take me to him," Leonardo pleaded. Rosa glared, but Leonardo did not back down. Finally, Rosa sighed.

"If you hurt him, I swear I will make you live to regret it."

"Rosa, I already regret it," he said shortly as he followed her through the thieves' hideout. He tried to keep track of it, but like most of Venice, the paths of alleys and dead ends was fiendishly complicated. By the time Rosa stopped outside a door, he was thoroughly lost and more nervous than he would have thought possible. It felt like his heart was beating in his throat instead of his chest, while his stomach performed strange flipping motions. He was lead into the building, through a door, up some stairs, down a hall and left at the a door. It was an alarming door, simply because it was completely mundane. Made of some kind of wood, whatever had been cheapest at the time of development. As he slowly opened the door, he let out a ragged breath. Ezio was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. There was a half-empty bottle in his hand, illuminated by the last beams of dusty sunlight that were coming through the lone window. Without a word, he swiftly crossed the dark room and dropped to his knees in front of Ezio. Using one hand to maintain his balance, laced the fingers of his other hand with Ezio. Leonardo was almost too ashamed with his earlier actions to meet Ezio's eyes, but he did it, just to be there for Ezio.

"I could never hate you," he whispered intently. It was an apology, and it was a promise. "You are my world."

Ezio stared at him, his drunken gaze uncomprehending. Lips curled into an almost feral snarl.

"Liar."

Leonardo felt like his heart was breaking, but instead he shook his head, moving so he could wrap his arms around the assassin. To his surprise, Ezio didn't flinch away. He didn't even complain.

"Mi dispiace, Ezio. I'm so sorry."

Leonardo could not have said how long he sat there, holding Ezio, whispering how much he loved him as a kind of mantra. It might have been hours, but then again it may have only been minutes before Ezio's voice broke his constant chant. Ezio's voice was harsh and cracked from disuse, and if Leonardo could have seen his face from their position, he would have known he had been crying.

"Leonardo?"

"Si, caro mio?" he replied as quickly as he dared, trying not to startle Ezio.

"I'm sorry I damaged your work."

Leonardo smiled, albeit a small, watery smile. He took just a moment to assure Ezio he couldn't care less if Ezio destroyed his entire workshop, if only he would come back with him. Ezio smiled his slightly crooked smile and, by way of answer, twisted around and kissed him.