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Description
When they were introduced by Ezio's mother, only Leonardo recognized the other. The artist was the only one who was aware that in fact it really wasn't their first meeting.

And it took Ezio a whole night to realize why he had a feeling that he knew Leonardo from somewhere. That in reality he really knew the artist, not only because he had seen him somewhere in the city while the assassin was jumping from one roof to the next…But because they already had been friends before – only to be separated…

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Ezio was sitting outside, in front of one of the older houses of Firenze. He was soaked, shining. He looked straight forward, watching the rain drops fall heavily. Then he let his gaze fall onto his right leg, pants bloody.

"Cazzo…" he whimpered, tentatively moving his leg. It hurt like hell and he sobbed loudly. No one of the people passing by even looked at him.

Vieri di'Pazzi had shoved him off a roof he was wandering on.

And of course his landing didn't end all too well. The only thing he could do after hitting the floor was running away, limping, trying not to strain his hurt leg further while getting away before Vieri had reached the ground.

His ankle hurt and there was one long cut along his whole shin. He simply couldn't move, the wound clearly infected, so he just sat there in the rain, waiting for Federico or his father to finally start searching for him. They should have already noticed that he was missing.

And alone…

Giving up his hope, he gritted his teeth, standing up as careful as he could. He almost cried in pain when his foot touched the ground. He leaned against the wall, seeking support. But as soon as he did a first step away from it, he tripped – and fell.

He already saw himself lying on the dirty ground, bloody, freezing to death.
But he didn't hit the ground, instead being caught by two slender arms.
"Meno male, got you…" he heard the person whispering, pulling him onto his feet again. As soon as the boy in front of him noticed his wounds, he got even more careful than he already was.

Ezio didn't care anymore. Everything went fuzzy around him, he could hear his blood rush and his heart beating like crazy in his chest. The last thing he said was a whispered "Grazie…" that passed his lips.

Then everything went black.

When he opened his eyes the next time, he was lying in a bed, underneath a thick blanket, surrounded by cushions. He blinked a few times, having difficulties with remembering what had happened.

Then everything hit him. The injuries, the rain, the hands, the voice… He had been saved by some stranger – who had taken him into his house. Not a good sign, he thought.

Suddenly almost panicking, he wanted to sit up. But he felt too dizzy. After some more tries he finally gave up, feeling a headache coming. He felt sick but didn't know why.

"It's the medicine."

The voice caused him to tense up at once. He had heard it before he fainted.
He looked in the direction the voice had come from.

There, in the door, a young boy of about sixteen years stood. He really seemed to be older than Ezio was, even though he was much slimmer, less muscles. He seemed to be more fragile. His hair was neither blonde nor brown, just something in between. His blue eyes were watching Ezio with a look so intense, the boy almost winced.

The stranger was balancing a plate with some bread and a glass of water. He smiled at the wounded, pointing at the leg that was hidden somewhere under the blanket.

"The doctor I called gave you some medicine. He told me that you'd feel dizzy after waking up. And you shouldn't move around yet. Otherwise the wound's going to reopen. He had to stitch it up."

Ezio shuddered suddenly, feeling glad that he was unconscious. He had always thought that stitching up an injury was little but torture. Most times the wounds hurt much more afterwards, even if they got infected.

The older boy laughed at Ezio's reaction.

"Yeah, hate it too, amico mio… So, how are you now?"

"Better…"

"Are you cold?"

"…no, not anymore… Grazie…"

"Ah" the boy suddenly called out, startling Ezio as he hit his face with his palm, "Perdonate, I still haven't told you my name…I'm Leonardo. Molto onorate."

Ezio stared at Leonardo in surprise, still not getting everything the boy had said.

He just talked too fast for his still clouded brain to get everything. Then he started laughing.

"Ezio Auditore. I owe you something… You might have saved my life."

"You owe me something? Then…" the boy said, sitting down on the bed next to Ezio, smiling, "How about we will become friends? I'm new in this city… I just moved here, so I don't know anyone…"

"Alright, amico mio…"

Ezio grinned. He wasn't used to people like Leonardo. Everyone normally wanted something from him, as he was the son of a rich family, having both power and money. But Leonardo wasn't like all the others. He was unique. And he was pretty sure that that fact would never change…

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"It's this one, isn't it?" Leonardo murmured, keeping Ezio from dozing off.

"What?"

"The scar… The reason for you forgetting about me…"

Leonardo's hands were trailing over Ezio's neck, then the back of his head. The assassin was lying there, back turned to Leonardo, enjoying the silence of the night. But the thought of having lost Leonardo once was keeping him awake.

"Mi dispiace…" he finally murmured, feeling guilty all of a sudden. Once he really had forgotten his now best friend and lover even existed! That… that wasn't right. It felt so wrong. Especially after everything the two of them had gone through by now.

"Why are you sorry?"

Leonardo's voice was gently, as always. He never sounded upset or exasperated. Maybe that was one of the reasons Ezio loved him so much. Because he was the one calming the assassin down whenever he threatened to explode because of his anger, whenever his temper got the better of him and he almost hunted down the ones who had hurt his beloved.

He was calming… he really was the better part of him.

"I forgot the one who was and is the most important to me… Something like that can't be forgiven that easily…"

Leonardo chuckled softly, causing Ezio to turn around and face his lover, not knowing what to think of the other's reactions to his words. The smile he was given told him, that he was truly amusing Leonardo, that the artist didn't care about what he had done.

"Ezio… the one who shouldn't be forgiven is the stronzo who did this to you…" he said, fingers still stroking the back of his head where the little scar was hidden beneath his dark hair, "But this way we had another "first meeting" – and I'm glad that it was under different circumstances than the first one… Even back then I hated seeing you hurt like that…"

Ezio chuckled. That was Leonardo's way of thinking, the way he liked. The artist always was like that. Calm and gentle, with a bit of an odd logic but even more dangerous than a templar when getting furious.

He could do nothing but lean forward, brushing his lips over Leonardo's, eyes fixated on the artist's face with a loving expression in them.

"I'm glad that the memories came back to me after our second meeting… and at least as glad that you didn't chance since then…"

"Never… as long as I'm with you… Even if one of us would lose his memories again…

As soon as we'd meet, everything would return – and everything that was yet to come would be even better…"

Description
When they were introduced by Ezio's mother, only Leonardo recognized the other. The artist was the only one who was aware that in fact it really wasn't their first meeting.

And it took Ezio a whole night to realize why he had a feeling that he knew Leonardo from somewhere. That in reality he really knew the artist, not only because he had seen him somewhere in the city while the assassin was jumping from one roof to the next…But because they already had been friends before – only to be separated…

+..+..+..+..+..+..+..+..+..+..+..+..+..+

Ezio was sitting outside, in front of one of the older houses of Firenze. He was soaked, shining. He looked straight forward, watching the rain drops fall heavily. Then he let his gaze fall onto his right leg, pants bloody.

"Cazzo…" he whimpered, tentatively moving his leg. It hurt like hell and he sobbed loudly. No one of the people passing by even looked at him.

Vieri di'Pazzi had shoved him off a roof he was wandering on.

And of course his landing didn't end all too well. The only thing he could do after hitting the floor was running away, limping, trying not to strain his hurt leg further while getting away before Vieri had reached the ground.

His ankle hurt and there was one long cut along his whole shin. He simply couldn't move, the wound clearly infected, so he just sat there in the rain, waiting for Federico or his father to finally start searching for him. They should have already noticed that he was missing.

And alone…

Giving up his hope, he gritted his teeth, standing up as careful as he could. He almost cried in pain when his foot touched the ground. He leaned against the wall, seeking support. But as soon as he did a first step away from it, he tripped – and fell.

He already saw himself lying on the dirty ground, bloody, freezing to death.
But he didn't hit the ground, instead being caught by two slender arms.
"Meno male, got you…" he heard the person whispering, pulling him onto his feet again. As soon as the boy in front of him noticed his wounds, he got even more careful than he already was.

Ezio didn't care anymore. Everything went fuzzy around him, he could hear his blood rush and his heart beating like crazy in his chest. The last thing he said was a whispered "Grazie…" that passed his lips.

Then everything went black.

When he opened his eyes the next time, he was lying in a bed, underneath a thick blanket, surrounded by cushions. He blinked a few times, having difficulties with remembering what had happened.

Then everything hit him. The injuries, the rain, the hands, the voice… He had been saved by some stranger – who had taken him into his house. Not a good sign, he thought.

Suddenly almost panicking, he wanted to sit up. But he felt too dizzy. After some more tries he finally gave up, feeling a headache coming. He felt sick but didn't know why.

"It's the medicine."

The voice caused him to tense up at once. He had heard it before he fainted.
He looked in the direction the voice had come from.

There, in the door, a young boy of about sixteen years stood. He really seemed to be older than Ezio was, even though he was much slimmer, less muscles. He seemed to be more fragile. His hair was neither blonde nor brown, just something in between. His blue eyes were watching Ezio with a look so intense, the boy almost winced.

The stranger was balancing a plate with some bread and a glass of water. He smiled at the wounded, pointing at the leg that was hidden somewhere under the blanket.

"The doctor I called gave you some medicine. He told me that you'd feel dizzy after waking up. And you shouldn't move around yet. Otherwise the wound's going to reopen. He had to stitch it up."

Ezio shuddered suddenly, feeling glad that he was unconscious. He had always thought that stitching up an injury was little but torture. Most times the wounds hurt much more afterwards, even if they got infected.

The older boy laughed at Ezio's reaction.

"Yeah, hate it too, amico mio… So, how are you now?"

"Better…"

"Are you cold?"

"…no, not anymore… Grazie…"

"Ah" the boy suddenly called out, startling Ezio as he hit his face with his palm, "Perdonate, I still haven't told you my name…I'm Leonardo. Molto onorate."

Ezio stared at Leonardo in surprise, still not getting everything the boy had said.

He just talked too fast for his still clouded brain to get everything. Then he started laughing.

"Ezio Auditore. I owe you something… You might have saved my life."

"You owe me something? Then…" the boy said, sitting down on the bed next to Ezio, smiling, "How about we will become friends? I'm new in this city… I just moved here, so I don't know anyone…"

"Alright, amico mio…"

Ezio grinned. He wasn't used to people like Leonardo. Everyone normally wanted something from him, as he was the son of a rich family, having both power and money. But Leonardo wasn't like all the others. He was unique. And he was pretty sure that that fact would never change…

+..+..+..+..+..+..+..+..+..+..+..+..+..+

"It's this one, isn't it?" Leonardo murmured, keeping Ezio from dozing off.

"What?"

"The scar… The reason for you forgetting about me…"

Leonardo's hands were trailing over Ezio's neck, then the back of his head. The assassin was lying there, back turned to Leonardo, enjoying the silence of the night. But the thought of having lost Leonardo once was keeping him awake.

"Mi dispiace…" he finally murmured, feeling guilty all of a sudden. Once he really had forgotten his now best friend and lover even existed! That… that wasn't right. It felt so wrong. Especially after everything the two of them had gone through by now.

"Why are you sorry?"

Leonardo's voice was gently, as always. He never sounded upset or exasperated. Maybe that was one of the reasons Ezio loved him so much. Because he was the one calming the assassin down whenever he threatened to explode because of his anger, whenever his temper got the better of him and he almost hunted down the ones who had hurt his beloved.

He was calming… he really was the better part of him.

"I forgot the one who was and is the most important to me… Something like that can't be forgiven that easily…"

Leonardo chuckled softly, causing Ezio to turn around and face his lover, not knowing what to think of the other's reactions to his words. The smile he was given told him, that he was truly amusing Leonardo, that the artist didn't care about what he had done.

"Ezio… the one who shouldn't be forgiven is the stronzo who did this to you…" he said, fingers still stroking the back of his head where the little scar was hidden beneath his dark hair, "But this way we had another "first meeting" – and I'm glad that it was under different circumstances than the first one… Even back then I hated seeing you hurt like that…"

Ezio chuckled. That was Leonardo's way of thinking, the way he liked. The artist always was like that. Calm and gentle, with a bit of an odd logic but even more dangerous than a templar when getting furious.

He could do nothing but lean forward, brushing his lips over Leonardo's, eyes fixated on the artist's face with a loving expression in them.

"I'm glad that the memories came back to me after our second meeting… and at least as glad that you didn't chance since then…"

"Never… as long as I'm with you… Even if one of us would lose his memories again…

As soon as we'd meet, everything would return – and everything that was yet to come would be even better…"