Chapter 29: Let the Rain Fall

Come Clean, Hilary Duff

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They’d agreed to meet up around noon, so there wasn’t a lot of rushing to do, but for some reason, Ezio was already awake and rummaging through his dresser. Mayor was laying on top of the wood, occasionally reaching a paw into the drawer because obviously, Ezio was playing with the clothes in the drawers specifically so that Mayor could play with them. Of course Ezio did. What other reason could he possibly have?

Today, of course, was Saturday, and he had a not-date at a coffee shop. It was not a date. So there was no sense in being nervous, because it wasn’t a date. Ezio didn’t date anymore. Jackson was the last one he’d dated, and they’d broken up back in 1984 (weird that he remembered the year). That was a long time ago, and Ezio had stuck to what he’d said then and hadn’t gone out with anyone else ever since, not really thought about it, hadn’t gotten a boyfriend, or a girlfriend for that matter. Ezio had Morgyn, and Drake, and as far as he was concerned, they were all he needed.

Of course, he said that, and from time to time, it felt like a lie he’d gotten accustomed to telling himself.

The funny part of this was that, when it was Morgyn, Ezio had all the answers. He knew exactly how to do Morgyn’s makeup and what to hand the blond to wear, but when it was himself, he was doing this. Rummaging through the dresser, pulling random articles of clothing he probably hadn’t seen since the 80s or 90s, holding them up in front of himself and making faces at the floor mirror before tossing whatever it was across the room. Lather, rinse, repeat.

By now, Ezio would hold something up in front of himself, stare at the mirror, and then toss it, and Mayor would go bolting after it. Ezio smirked a little, tossing a shirt that way. It landed on Mayor’s head, and the cat loosed an awfully offended noise, fell over onto the floor under it, and kicked it off. What a silly creature he was sometimes. But that was also part of what had made Ezio like him. Ezio sat down on the floor, holding his hand out. Mayor immediately came over to him and bumped into his hand affectionately.

For all that he wasn’t much for this having a human thing, Mayor had adjusted to it relatively easily. Ezio smiled slightly, reaching down with the other hand and pulling the cat into his lap. Then, he held up his hands and started playing with him. Eventually, Mayor would manage to scratch him and cause tangible damage, and the game would stop, Ezio would go out into the living room, Drake would make a fuss and insist on coating it in antibacterial ointment and a bandaid, and Ezio would roll his eyes when Drake wasn’t looking but go along with it. It was always like that. Every little thing that hurt him, Drake seemed to have a weird interest in destroying in any way he could. Since he couldn’t necessarily destroy Ezio’s cat, apparently antibacterial ointment and bandaids would have to do.

Ezio could probably use to be a little more careful and not get hurt enough to warrant Drake’s reactions to it, but Ezio was still an Ember.

What are you so afraid of, Ezio?

It really was more complicated than that. Ezio released a sigh, lowering his hands. Mayor pounced one, and Ezio loosed an airy laugh, hugging the silly cat, and then let him go. Mayor ran off across the room, chasing the shadows, and Ezio wondered how it was he was supposed to explain that he was afraid of living. Maybe that wasn’t right. He was afraid of wanting to live. Because he already knew what it was to want something, with everything you were, and be denied it. Every so often, he wanted to live, more than he’d ever wanted anything in his entire life. And wanting that hurt, because in wanting it, he also knew he couldn’t have it, so what was the point?

There were a lot of things that Ezio wanted and he couldn’t have. He was getting used to it now. And he knew that Morgyn meant well, but where exactly did the blond get off, questioning what Ezio wanted and said were his dreams? Maybe it seemed like something shallow and silly, something that’d just come to mind, like something he was chasing only for the money, but there were other reasons. The two and a half million kids out there on the street with nowhere else to go, maybe they were part of his motivations.

The chances of someone ever living through what Jean put him through were slim. But maybe not as slim as he’d like to say. And that chance, the chance that somewhere out there was another kid living through something very similar to what he had, that was why he was fighting for this. Because hell if he hadn’t wanted someone to fight for him, more than he’d ever wanted anything back then.

And something, the universe, Watcher, whatever, had given him Drake. Maybe that was why Ezio didn’t feel like he was allowed to love Drake. Because he still felt like he didn’t deserve him. Like somehow falling in love with him had been a terrible thing to do, and yet in hindsight, it was the only logical outcome all the same. Of course Ezio loved him. Drake was the first person that wasn’t Morgyn to see him, and not the boy that looks like Rose.

Ezio released a sigh, watching Mayor scamper around his room. The cat was silly, but of course he was. He always had been, at least as long as Ezio had known him. Ezio smiled. “Hey Mayor,” he said. “What do you think I should wear?”

The cat didn’t pay much mind to him at first, his butt going over his head into a pile of rejected shirts, but then he sat up, grabbed one particular shirt in his teeth and dragged it across the floor. He normally wasn’t like that, so Ezio moved around, reached out and took the shirt. Mayor, strangely, didn’t try to keep it. Ezio held it up, and then tilted his head.

“You know this shirt doesn’t usually stay on me very well,” he said, looking down at the cat, but Mayor, of course, was already playing with something else. As he rolled around on the floor, his little paws smacked into something and made a loud metallic jingling sound. Mayor didn’t seem to mind it, but Ezio was drawn to what had made the noise. A couple of belts.

Just long enough to keep this shirt from falling off him, Ezio would bet.

* * *

The debate about his makeup was almost just for show. To make himself feel like he was having a proper debate about it, before he went and wore the exact same makeup as he always did, because, of course. He wouldn’t want to actually change anything, that’d almost be too much. Ezio pursed his lips, and then washed it all off yet again. He was actually attempting some alternative looks, but mostly he was only succeeding in remembering why this was his default. It was carefully curated and crafted to set off his eyes, as it turned out. He knew what his best asset was, and he knew what made his eyes pop. In combination, there were times when Ezio blended into the crowd, and other times when no one seemed to be able to quit staring.

Morgyn was almost much the same. Almost, because Morgyn’s appearance was specifically cultivated so that no one could ever look away. Morgyn liked the attention, Ezio figured. Ezio didn’t mind it, most of the time. But there were still times when it made his nerves notably restless. He didn’t like being attractive. He’d rather be one of those average looking guys, the ones that weren’t terribly unattractive, but didn’t turn heads, either.

Of course, it did occur to him, that his favourite colour was not, in fact, black or grey, it was purple, and he never did wear purple, did he? He wondered if maybe he should endeavour to change that, but Ezio wasn’t sure what he’d look like in purple, for starters. Maybe it didn’t look terribly good on him. Or maybe purple was to him what red was to Morgyn. He shouldn’t be experimenting for this of all things. He should stick to tried and true methods and colours, because at least that way, his chances of messing this up were really slim.

It wasn’t a date though. It definitely wasn’t.

“Ezio do you know where -” came Morgyn’s voice from the other side of the door, and then Morgyn stopped.

It wasn’t as if Ezio had closed the door, so when he turned to look at the blond, he tried not to look annoyed.

Morgyn paused for a moment, there, staring. “What are you doing?” Morgyn asked.

Ezio snorted. “My makeup, what’s it look like?” he asked.

“Well yeah, but, why?”

Did Ezio have to have a reason to do his makeup? Maybe he did. If nothing else, it wasn’t like Ezio spent a lot of time on it when it was just them and the only place he had to go that day was class. It wasn’t like this kind of thing normally mattered much, and it was obvious in how Ezio treated it. He supposed then, the question was warranted.

“I’m going out in an hour or so,” he said, and then went back to fiddling with his lipstick. He’d worn this particular black shade multiple times already, it seemed fairly silly to act like it wasn’t going to be good enough for this, but maybe he cared a little more about it this time.

“Oh, yeah?” Morgyn asked. “Where to? Can I come?”

“You probably shouldn’t,” Ezio answered. “I’m headed to Magnolia Promenade to meet with a friend.”

“A friend,” Morgyn repeated. “Like a friend-friend or a friend-friend?”

Ezio blinked at the mirror, and then glanced over one shoulder at Morgyn. “What?” he asked.

“You know what,” Morgyn answered, raising an eyebrow slightly. “Is this that kind of an outing?”

Ezio rolled his eyes, turning back to the mirror. “We’re just friends,” he said. “I helped her out of a sticky legal situation a bit back, ghosts might’ve been involved, whatever, here we are, we’re friends. Sometimes I buy her paintings.”

“You buy her art?” Morgyn asked. “Wait this is a girl?”

“Yes?” Ezio asked, eyebrows raising.

“Sorry, you’re usually into boys, that’s all,” Morgyn answered, shuffling around to sit on the toilet lid. “So, what’s she like?”

“Don’t get excited,” Ezio said, shaking his head. “It won’t lead to anything.”

“How do you know?” Morgyn asked. “Maybe this is the breakthrough you’ve been waiting for.”

Ezio slid the lipstick lid back on, tossing the stick onto the sink, and stared at the faucet for a moment. He still remembered the first time he saw her. Of course he did, it was surprising and probably borne of sleep deprivation and stress. Somewhere amid trying to resurrect Morgyn’s stupid ass after the blond had gotten murdered by overload potion (which, for the record, still shouldn’t have been a thing!), Drake had turned into Cassandra. Of course, Ezio didn’t know her name, then. That was a good thirty something years ago, even, she probably hadn’t even been born yet, and her parents were probably very young.

That was weird, wasn’t it? If he and Cassandra started actually dating, because Ezio had been alive longer than her parents. Grandparents. Shit, who knew how many generations of her family line had passed by in his lifetime? It was hard to say. Ezio preferred not to think about it. Then, with that standard, he shouldn’t ever date anyone, which was fine by him, anyway.

“Eeeeeziooooo,” Morgyn said.

“What? Sorry,” Ezio answered, shaking his head and reaching for his eyeliner.

“Do you like this girl?” Morgyn asked.

Ezio glanced at the blond, his lips flattening into a line. “It doesn’t matter if I do or not,” he said. “I said it’s not going to go anywhere.” Cassandra deserved better than him. Cassandra Goth sure as hell did. And if she ever happened to start dating someone that wasn’t better than him, Ezio may or may not have to fight with a very strong, sudden urge to deck someone. Martial artists mastered fighting so that they never had to fight, but Ezio might actually have to decide to fight a bitch. (Sorry, Sifu Glenn.)

“Maybe that’s the problem, then,” Morgyn said softly. “You’ve gotten so used to thinking that it doesn’t matter what you think or you want that you can’t recognise it when you do have something you want.”

Ezio released a sigh, hands resting on the sink as he turned to look at the blond. “Why are you trying to make sense of me?” he asked.

“I’m trying to help,” Morgyn said. “But I can’t help you if you don’t let me in and I don’t understand anything any more than you do.”

“I don’t need help,” Ezio answered, hands raising off the sink to get his eyeliner as impeccable as always. “What I need is to get my eyeliner done, and not be late.” Who cared if things were a little more complicated than he let on, if he felt like he was drowning half the time, if somewhere behind the smile he always had for everyone else was a lot of pain and confusion, because it wasn’t like anyone had bothered with it all before. He was used to it.

He was afraid to die, and he was afraid to live, and the end result was, he didn’t do either.

“Ezio,” Morgyn said softly, staring at the blond’s lap. “It’s okay not to be okay.”

Ezio released a sigh, tossing the eyeliner pencil onto the sink. It was quiet, for a long moment, Ezio leaning against the sink, Morgyn watching him silently. “I don’t know what it is that you’re looking for, when you get onto these things,” he said.

Morgyn was quiet, for a moment or two longer, and then drew a breath in. “What happened in France, Ezio?”

Of course. Morgyn seemed to think there were things about France and what had happened at that time that Ezio needed to talk about. Ezio wouldn’t admit it, but the idiot was probably right. It wasn’t like Ezio knew where to start, but he also knew that not talking to Morgyn about it had felt like Ezio had deliberately blocked Morgyn out. In a sense, he had, yes. Because there were things about France that Ezio could barely stomach half the time. Ezio didn’t expect Morgyn could any better than he could.

“Don’t worry about France,” Ezio said.

Ezio could tell, Morgyn didn’t like that answer, by the way the blond tensed up. Then the tension went away, almost as fast as it’d built. “Okay,” Morgyn answered, and then stood up and left.

Ezio released a sigh. The blond would ask again, sooner or later. Morgyn always did.

* * *

He was early, because of course he was. Ezio was always early, but one could argue that someone like him was never late or early, anyway, and it was everyone else that had issues with telling time. (Nope, Ezio never had any more of an idea what day it fucking was than anyone else did.) Ezio had shuffled over to one of the low fences, resting against it and waiting. She’d get here presumably on time, and the extra waiting he had to do was no one’s fault but his own.

Morgyn was getting insufferable, though. The blond always did eventually. Most of the time, Ezio missed Morgyn when they were apart. But for just a few days, after Morgyn had left, Ezio kind of felt relieved about it. Morgyn meant well, Ezio knew that. Ezio was also quite aware that the path to hell was paved in good intentions.

While he waited, he’d decided to pull out his phone, and he was playing a crossword game. It was probably a better idea than being bored the entire time he was waiting, and he didn’t want to make Cassandra feel bad for making him wait (it was his fault, after all). Somewhere along the way between level 19 and 20, a shadow fell over him, and he looked up to find Cassandra moving around him to sit on the fence too.

“Hey,” he said, immediately turning his phone off and dropping it into a pocket.

“You didn’t have to stop,” Cassandra said.

“Well, you’re here,” he answered. “And I have to admit, I think you make better company than a phone game.” The shimmer of her necklace caught his eye first, a snowflake it looked like (how amusing), but she was wearing a deep purple shirt, and Ezio was almost immediately taken with it. Not only was that a beautiful shade, she looked stunning in it.

“I try to be,” Cassandra said, smiling softly. “So, where were we going?”

“Oh, just over here,” Ezio answered, turning and leading the way down the street. One hand slid into a pocket, and strangely, suddenly her hand was in there, too. Wasn’t that weird? Maybe it wasn’t weird to other people. The difficult thing about being so old was, Ezio had very minimal idea of what was socially acceptable and what was not. Was she being weird? Was she not being weird at all? Like fuck could he tell the difference.

Like fuck did he care about the difference, either. Weirdly, there was something about her that made all of his nerves calm back down. Unconsciously, he squeezed her hand in his, strangely in his pocket as it was, and smiled slightly. She turned just a little bit pink, and looked away. Maybe she did think it was a date. Maybe he didn’t care if she did.

Neither of them said anything else, and wordlessly separated as they reached a seat at the little cafe on the corner. It was small, quaint, and smelled strongly of baked bread, it reminded him of the little bakery cafe on the corner when he was a kid. Those people were very nice people, and he hoped they’d lived well. He’d never know. He slid into his seat, she took her hand back and settled down into hers.

“How’s your week been?” he asked, reaching across the walkway to take a couple menus and set one in front of her.

“Huh?” she asked, looking up at him. “Oh! Oh, uh, I stole – sold! Sold a couple more paintings.”

Ezio laughed. “I hope if you should happen to steal anything, you won’t tell me about it.”

Cassandra loosed a soft snort of amusement, and Ezio’s heart almost leapt into his throat at the sound.

“Sorry, my jokes aren’t very funny,” he said.

“No, I like them,” Cassandra said. “I just, I don’t know how to make jokes, myself. My parents’ sense of humour is… unique. Mine is too.”

“I see,” Ezio answered. “Dry humour?”

“More like, very weird and sometimes slightly morbid,” Cassandra answered.

“I’m sure mine’s a little weird sometimes, too,” Ezio said. “Any idea what you’d like?”

“Yeah, just a latte,” Cassandra answered. “Somehow the idea of you being morbid and weird is cute.”

Ezio snorted. “We’ll see if you still feel that way later,” he answered. “I’ll be right back then.” Ezio stood up, taking the menus with him, and went to go order. As usual, it was a bit of a wait for their drinks to be made, but Ezio didn’t get anything complicated, either, and soon enough, he made his way back to the table, setting Cassandra’s latte down in front of her, and then settling across from her.

“Thank you,” Cassandra murmured, reaching over and wrapping her hands around the cup.

“You’re welcome,” Ezio answered. “There’s flavouring syrups over there if you want some,” he said, gesturing with one hand over his shoulder.

Cassandra smiled slightly. “I think it’s just fine how it is,” she said, reaching up with one hand to push her glasses up her nose, and then she reached back down for her cup. Then she unleashed a squeak, as her cup fell over, and the latte splashed out of the cup.

Instinctively, Ezio let go of his own cup and held his hands out. Hers stopped mid-fall, the liquid suspending in the air.

Cassandra’s eyes widened, staring at what he’d just done.

This one was going to be fun to try explaining later. Instead, Ezio smiled slightly, and moved his hands, magically nudging the latte back into the cup and setting it upright. For a long moment, Cassandra didn’t say anything at all.

“… What did you do?” she eventually asked.

“It’s a long story,” Ezio answered. And it really was. Except, maybe it wasn’t really that long of a story at all. It was quite simple. Magic. He’d done magic. Cassandra apparently decided not to ask anything else, because instead, she reached out and touched the cup with one finger, like it might bite her, and then picked it up. Her hand was still shaking, though.

And then Ezio remembered that people started to shake like that when they hadn’t eaten. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“What? I’m fine,” Cassandra answered in a rush.

“Have you eaten today?” he asked, eyebrows drawing together in concern.

Cassandra looked up at him, and it seemed like she wanted to say something, but then she just shrugged one shoulder.

He was going to go with, probably not. Ezio released a sigh. “Magic,” he said. “What I did. It was magic.”

Cassandra tilted her head slightly. “So… you’re like, a wizard?” she asked.

Ezio wrinkled his nose. “We’re called spellcasters anymore,” he said. “But I prefer the term witch.”

“That’s actually really cool,” Cassandra said.

“You’re not weirded out?” Ezio asked.

Cassandra snorted. “I mean I’ve never seen that exactly, but my grandmother was capable of it, I know that. My mother talks to things that aren’t there. I’m pretty sure the house I grew up in was absolutely haunted.”

Ezio huffed. “Well, come on,” he said, standing up.

“What?” Cassandra asked.

“Apparently you need to eat,” Ezio said. “I know just the place.”

* * *

“I used to come here all the time,” Ezio said, leading the way over to one of the food stalls in San Myshuno. Normally, he’d insist on something a little classier, and maybe a bit healthier because this certainly didn’t count as healthy, necessarily, but it could be worse, for starters. They were in Uptown for fuck’s sake, they were a little better than some of the greasier options in the Spice Market for instance, and besides, Cassandra was a little on a skinny side. She could tolerate a couple greasy taquitos.

“You’ll love their ramen,” he said, turning around and walking backwards. “The dango’s not bad either, and the nigiri probably won’t kill you, and the pufferfish nigiri also probably won’t kill you, but you never know.”

Cassandra giggled softly, following him.

She seemed curious about magic, but hadn’t bombarded him with questions he didn’t want to give her the answers to, either. He was glad for that. Getting into the semantics of magic and magic realm, and the differences between a witch and a warlock and a spellcaster and a mage (there weren’t any), that didn’t really sound like something he wanted to do right now. Of course, he knew, probably better than she did, that magic was in her blood, and sooner or later, she’d have to face that reality.

But if he could keep her from it, just a little bit longer… there were things in the magical world that were dangerous, maybe a little more dangerous than he’d like her to be around. He’d discovered, quite some time ago, really, that she was young, and naive, and he’d like her to stay that way, and he would help that along if he could do so.

Ezio turned back around, ordering some ramen, and then stepped aside.

Cassandra smiled and ordered the same thing. It was the cheapest thing on the menu, as it happened, so Ezio was glad for that, but he didn’t say that. Cassandra hadn’t known him out there on the streets, and he didn’t intend to tell her anything about it, or that buying her paintings was occasionally not a very financially sound decision. But they were beautiful, just like she was, and he couldn’t help wanting them. He’d say something about just like how he wanted her, but he didn’t want her. He wanted better for her, actually. Ezio wanted her to find someone that understood her, moved at the same speed as she did, that knew what she meant and needed even when she didn’t say the words.

He could be that someone, Ezio knew that. He just had no intention of it. This was only as friends. Because she was her, and he’d broken a long time ago, and she deserved better than dealing with the pieces of who he’d once been.

The stall vendor handed them their bowls, and chopsticks. Ezio turned around, shuffling over to one of the tables nearby. Cassandra looked quite perplexed at the chopsticks.

“How do you eat with these?” she asked, settling down at the table across from Ezio.

Ezio smiled, holding his up for her to see. “This stick goes here, and this one goes here,” he explained. “You want them angled so that when you move your fingers, they do this.”

“Oh,” Cassandra murmured, looking at her own sticks.

“I find it helps to tap the ends against an even surface,” Ezio said. “That way the tips are aligned and it’s easier to grip things with them. See?” Ezio tapped his against the bottom of his bowl, and then pulled out a wad of noodles.

“Wow, you’re really good at this,” Cassandra said, looking rather impressed. Then, she attempted to copy what he did. She didn’t quite get it the first time, but Ezio had seen far less graceful attempts.

“It took a lot of practice,” Ezio said. He reached over, gently repositioned her chopsticks, and then let go.

Cassandra moved one of her fingers, and then attempted eating her ramen that way. That time, she had a little more success than before.

Ezio smiled. “You’ll get the hang of it eventually, but I think at the moment that’s a pretty solid start.”

“Yeah?” Cassandra asked, trying not to drop any of the noodles.

Ezio nodded. “Yeah.”

“Ezio?” a voice sounded from one side.

Ezio turned towards it, and was met with a very familiar, if slightly older, face. “Jackson,” he said, and breathed out. “Wow, I-“

“I thought it was you,” Jackson said, smiling. “Wow, time has really treated you well, huh?”

Ezio couldn’t help the slight flush that spread across his cheeks, and he glanced down at the stone under them.

“Sorry,” Jackson said. “I couldn’t help it. You look really good.”

“Thank you,” Ezio answered. He glanced at Cassandra, but she was across the table being very busy fighting with her ramen. Of course, he had a feeling she wasn’t so absorbed in that as she seemed. “This is Cassandra,” Ezio said. “My date.”

Cassandra squeaked and coughed a couple times.

Maybe he should’ve warned her before he said that. Hmm.

“Nice to meet you,” Jackson said. “This one’s a good one. Keep him.”

Wait, did he really think that? After all this time, it was weird to hear something like that out of Jackson of all people. Ezio wasn’t sure how he felt about it, or if he even should feel something about it. Certainly, Morgyn wouldn’t be too happy with him getting all flustered about Jackson like it was the eighties all over again. But Ezio never gave his heart easily, and neither did he take it back so easily.

“I’m going to try,” Cassandra said.

Ezio looked over at her, mostly out of surprise. She smiled at him. His heart tried to do a cartwheel.

“Right, well, um, it was really nice seeing you,” Jackson said. “And I’m glad you’re doing okay. And… for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” Ezio answered, looking up at him. “I’m sorry too.”

“I should go, so, um. I may see you around, if not, then… yeah. I hope life stays good to you. And good luck with keeping him.”

Jackson turned, and walked away. And Ezio released a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding.

“Who was that?” Cassandra asked.

“The last man that ever broke my heart,” Ezio answered.

Cassandra didn’t say anything. They ate in silence, for a bit, and then Cassandra’s hand reached across the table, and her fingers threaded through Ezio’s. And nothing had ever felt right so quickly until the moment she took his hand. He could feel it, under her skin, the magic that ran in her veins. Her magic pulse called to his.

“Do you really want to keep me?” he asked quietly.

Cassandra flushed slightly, and then nodded.

“Why?” Ezio asked. “I’m not…” Well, he wasn’t a lot of things, where did he even start?

“You hate yourself really loudly,” Cassandra said. “I guess I want to be one of the voices that doesn’t hate you. And… maybe somewhere along the way, I can help you learn how to stop hating yourself.”

Ezio stared at her, for a moment. There were people that had tried to teach him that, before. What was most interesting to him, though, was how quickly she’d heard it. That quiet little voice, drowned out by his laughter, whispering that he wasn’t okay at all. How did she hear it so easily?

Maybe she had the same voice.

* * *

Sometimes, it was nice to be lacking makeup. Ezio snorted softly to himself, at the thought, rubbed the water from his eyes, and dropped the towel over his head to get the water out of his hair. Drake was home, after a long and apparently annoying discussion with his editors. Morgyn seemed to be across the hallway, over there with Caleb, but then Ezio didn’t really expect much else, and it was probably for the best.

If Ezio had come home after that and had to deal with Morgyn asking a thousand nonsensical questions, then he might’ve actually gone nuts.

He’d gotten Cassandra home, and then come back to his shoddy apartment where pufferfish nigiri was apparently invented, and immediately tossed himself in the shower. Sometimes it was easier to get all of his makeup and stuff off if he just got in the shower. Fortunately, tomorrow was Sunday, so he could spend the day relaxing and trying to take his mind off classes for a little bit.

Quickly, he got himself dry, and his clothes on, then toddled out into the living room and fell heavily onto the couch beside Drake. The vampire glanced over at him.

“Long day?” he asked.

“Yeah, something like that,” Ezio said. For a moment, he debated telling Drake about running into Jackson, but then decided that he should probably keep it to himself. Drake tended to worry about… um, a lot of things, but mostly Ezio, and any indication that there may be a threat to Ezio’s peace of mind and emotional stability might set his paranoia off. Ezio didn’t really want that. “Went out for coffee with a friend, but Morgyn was all excited about it.”

Drake snorted softly. “Yeah, I bet.”

“I’ve gone out for coffee with friends before,” Ezio said. “I don’t get why Morgyn got excited about it this time.”

“Well, you know Morgyn wants you to be happy,” Drake answered. “And with you two living apart now, it’s harder for Morgyn to tell what’s important in your life and what isn’t, I think. I don’t know, maybe it’s a little of Morgyn wanting to feel as connected to you as you two were before. A lot of things have changed in the last year. You’ve certainly changed.”

“No I haven’t,” Ezio said. And he hadn’t. He just seemed different because the rest of the world had changed, that was all.

Drake gave him something of a flat look. “Ezio, you are not the same person that left magic realm twenty years ago,” he said. “That’s part of why I decided to move out here.”

“Is it?” Ezio asked. That was news to him, but then they didn’t really talk about that a lot. There were plenty of things they didn’t talk about, actually. Maybe too many things, now that he was thinking about it. There were a great many unspoken things between them, and sometimes Ezio didn’t know why they were unspoken, save for Ezio never knew the right words to use, how to broach the subjects that needed to be broached, and maybe Drake didn’t either. And in the end, nothing was said at all about the things that mattered the most.

“Yeah,” Drake said. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

What? Ezio looked confused, and then tilted his head to one side. “You wouldn’t have,” Ezio said. He didn’t really know that, of course. Hard to say what might’ve happened if someone had shot him in the right place, but of course, there was a reason Ezio didn’t tell either him or Morgyn about that.

“I was,” Drake answered. “I was losing you. You were becoming someone I didn’t know anymore, and I didn’t know what to do with that. It just scared me.”

Ezio’s gaze softened, and without thinking about it, he moved around and laid his head in Drake’s lap. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Why are you sorry?” Drake asked. If he felt anything about Ezio suddenly lying in his lap, he had the grace not to say anything.

Ezio shrugged. “I don’t know,” he answered. “Sometimes it just kind of feels like we’re drifting apart, and then it doesn’t feel like that anymore.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Drake said.

“Morgyn keeps telling me that I should be happy, and not just not unhappy,” Ezio said quietly. “We keep getting into mild disagreements about it. I don’t know that I’m Morgyn’s definition of happy, but maybe I’m mine.”

Drake was quiet, for a moment. Ezio was, too, waiting to see what he’d say. Drake was one of those people that was really quiet, like Ezio was. And when he finally decided to say something, it was usually with thought and consideration. Neither of them were like Morgyn, who tended to spout off at the mouth without thinking about it. Ezio didn’t like throwing words out without thinking, because it caused a lot of pain sometimes, and words were things you couldn’t take back.

“Well, maybe Morgyn is right, and you can be happier,” Drake said. “But it doesn’t mean that your idea of happiness is wrong, either. Maybe that’s all it is, then. You just have different ideas of what happy means. I guess Morgyn hasn’t figured that part out just yet.”

“I don’t need anyone but you to be happy anyway,” Ezio said. And then, he realised what he just said. Hadn’t he just been thinking something about how he didn’t spout off at the mouth? “You guys,” he said. “You and Morgyn are all I need.”

If Drake noticed that slip up, he again had the grace not to say anything. But, very gently, Drake reached over with one hand and ran his fingers through Ezio’s hair. And Ezio remembered how much he loved it when people did that. Nowadays, since Morgyn wasn’t here very often, no one really did anymore. Drake was almost afraid to touch him, it seemed like, and all things considered, after everything they’d been through together, he probably was. No one else had the nerve, and no one else would be able to without perhaps Ezio freezing their hand. He didn’t like being touched.

Well, he didn’t like people that weren’t Morgyn, Drake, and apparently, Cassandra, touching him, he should say.

Annoyingly, it was calming, and he was already tired, not just from the long day and dealing with Morgyn that morning, but from his medications, which he’d taken earlier. And, it was nine. Ezio was always going to bed by nine. He sat there, blearily staring at the laptop screen, but not seeing it, and then his eyes slid closed.

“I like her, Drake,” Ezio said, very softly. “I don’t want to like her.”

“Why?” Drake asked.

“She’s too good for me,” Ezio answered. “Just like you are.”

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