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He presses himself flat against the rooftop, hiding in the shadows and praying that the guards haven't seen him duck into the alley and scale the wall to get up here. It takes every ounce of discipline he has instilled in himself to keep his ragged breath low, steady, and quiet, as his robes grow damper with his own blood, streaks of red against the already dirt covered white. His evening had not gone as planned, a quiet and routine infiltration turning into fight that he hadn't fared well in. Yes, he'd been outnumbered, but that shouldn't have mattered. He'd been sloppy, and now he was paying the price. There is no such thing as simple, or straightforward where the Borgia are concerned, and those they pay to protect them are ruthless, efficient, and without mercy. It would not have been enough for them simply to kill the assassin. No, had they succeeded in taking him down, he would have been made to pay for his transgressions against the Borgia. Painfully.
Below him on the streets, he hears shouting and the rapid pace of feet against the stone as the guards race past, cursing among themselves for losing the trail of a single man who'd been dropping blood with every step. Ezio smiles to himself, a cheeky quirk of his mouth. He will not pay today. If he has his way, he will not pay ever, and it will be the Borgia brought to their knees.
But not tonight. Tonight, he needs to find shelter, and he needs to stop the bleeding. Quietly, he slides down the other side of the building, dropping onto a stack of crates, and then to the ground. His sudden appearance and the prominent bloodstains startles a group of men chatting in the street, but Ezio vanishes almost as quickly as he appeared. A specter, and nothing more. Judging by the smell, the men have had enough wine tonight to blur their senses, and make them doubt they'd ever seen anything. Hiding in plain sight. That's what he does best. He heads in the opposite direction from the party that is pursuing him. He's in the clear now.
The rest of his journey is second nature to him. His feet know the path, his mind and body pulling him on instinct to where he knows he'll be safe. It's a short journey, and in just a few minutes, Ezio finds himself next to a familiar door.
He raps his fist against it twice in quick succession, and waits, the soft glow of light filtering through the windows confirming that the man he's looking for is home, mostly likely lost in his work prior to the interruption. Sure enough, a moment later the door opens a crack and a familiar, comforting face peers out.
"Ezio," Leonardo greets him with warmth that fades to concern the moment his eyes take in the stoop of Ezio's shoulders and the blood soaking his robes. Ezio smiles wryly, and shrugs as Leonardo throws the door open and pulls him inside. "My god, what has happened to you?" He demands, barring the door and ushering Ezio across the open space, around the magnificent projects and experiments. He's been in this room countless times, examined every piece of work in it, and still he can't help but stare in wonder at all the manifestations of Leonardo's brilliance. But Leonardo doesn't let him pause this time. He is a man on a mission, and nothing will stop him. Leonardo quickly clears a space on an emptier side of a work bench and pushes Ezio down to sit beside it. Ezio doesn't resist. Already he can feel the pain and fatigue pushing in at the edge of his awareness, now that the crisis is over and he is safe.
"You said you were going to do some investigating, with perhaps a little light eavesdropping, nothing more," Leonardo says to him as his fingers deftly work the clasps for Ezio's ruined robe.
"And so I did," Ezio agrees, wincing as he shrugs out of the robe.
"It seems like you did more than that," Leonardo scolds.
"Things don't always go according to plan, Leo. And, there were rather more guards present than I had anticipated."
"The Borgia are scared. You and your fledglings have built quite the reputation. Come now, get this off so I can see how bad it is." Leonardo tugs at what remains of the thin shirt Ezio wears under his robes. He complies and raises his arms slightly as Leonardo removes the shirt, taking extra care where the soaked fabric has already begun to stick to the skin near the wounds. Even still, Ezio draws in a sharp breath as the pain stabs through his chest and abdomen. Leonardo's eyes narrow, and Ezio watches carefully as a flash of anger passes over his face at the sight of the gashes -- one shallow under his ribs, where he turned to miss a swipe and had stepped into the reach of another sword, and the second down his chest where he'd stepped back to avoid an overhead strike but had ended up with his back against the wall, allowing the tip of the blade to still make its mark.
"Lay down," Leonardo orders, his voice tinted with a hard edge that Ezio hates to hear. He doesn't argue, and lifts himself up to the work bench to lay down. Leonardo does not speak as he works, first washing the wound so he can better see how bad it was. Truthfully, Ezio should probably have found an actual Doctor, but there was no care he'd rather be under than Leonardo's. This is not the first time Leonardo has bandaged him up, but it's definitely the worst. By far.
"You're incredibly lucky," Leonardo informs him after some time. "Any deeper, and either of these might have been fatal. As it is, the bleeding has mostly stopped. I will need to stitch them both, however." He reaches over and picks up a strip of leather that he slides between Ezio's teeth. "Bite. This won't be painless."
Ezio doesn't argue, and he bites hard, once again working to control his breathing as Leonardo's needle works to sew his skin back together. He is no stranger to baring pain or injury, but still, his body aches as every muscle clenches against the pain, and by the time Leonardo has tied off the last stitch, his brow is damp with sweat, as his body sags with relief. Leonardo tears strips of clean linen, and wraps the wounds to protect them. His fingers brush softly against Ezio's skin as he works, strong and calloused from hours spent every day on his work. They're a comfort, and Ezio finds himself leaning into the feeling. When the last of the cloth is tied off, Leonard steps back and sighs. "That's all I can do. You need rest."
Slowly, carefully, Ezio sits up, his freshly patched wounds still aching sharply. He turns to Leonardo to thank him, but the words die on his lips immediately. Leonardo looks pained and weary, a darkness and a fear settled on his usually bright face. The corners of his eyes are damp, and Ezio feels a knot in the core of his stomach that has nothing to do with his injuries.
"Leo," he starts, but Leonardo quickly shakes his head.
"Don't start, Ezio," he says.
"Leo, please, talk to me," Ezio persists and reaches out his hand. Leonardo takes it without hesitation and Ezio tugs him closer. Leonardo lets him, settling himself in the space between Ezio's knees.
"I respect you, and the work you do. I am on your side, at your back, always. You know this," Leonardo begins carefully.
"But?" Ezio prompts.
"But. Have you any idea how close you came to getting yourself killed tonight?"
"Some," Ezio admits.
Leonardo rests a hand on Ezio's side, above the wound. "You lead a magnificent, terrifying, honourable life. But you make dangerous enemies. Enemies who need to be brought down, yes, but dangerous enemies none the less. I would hate to lose you, that's all."
Ezio gently wraps his arms around Leonardo's shoulder and leans forward so their foreheads are pressed together. "I would hate to be lost to you. And I would hate to lose you too," he admits. "Why do you think it's always you I come back to?"
"Because no one patches you up like I do," Leonardo says, "and because you can not resist my charm and good looks."
"Exactly," Ezio laughs.
Leonardo leans into the embrace and places a kiss against Ezio's lips that is equal parts soft and possessive. Ezio returns it with equal longing and want, missing Leonardo's mouth instantly when he pulls away.
"I cannot promise that I will always be safe, that's not the life I lead," Ezio says softly. "Just as you can not promise me that you will always be safe, because that is the life you lead. But I can promise that I will always come back to you."
"And I can promise that I will always be here when you do," Leonardo agrees.
It's enough for both of them.