Chapter 41: Only to Be With You

I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For, U2

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It was weird to only have a floor left. The counters and the appliances in the kitchen were still there, and Drake still had his laptop, but the rest of their furniture had been either sold or moved to Spire. Ezio was stretched out on the wood, gently petting Mayor as the cat snoozed beside him. Drake sat not far away, typing away on his laptop.

Ezio had eventually asked him how much he made in royalties, and he did make a good deal, around three thousand, closer to four sometimes. It was enough to get by on, a good deal of what they needed for the rent at Spire. Ezio was quite serious about keeping solid track of their income and expenses, so that when the medical assistance people asked him to prove his financial need, he could do it.

Quite frankly, though, how many people could afford his medication, anyway? It was like it was priced for rich people, because everyone knew only rich people got sick.

Ezio rolled over and stared up at the ceiling.

Drake looked over at him, pausing in his typing.

“I think I did something stupid,” Ezio said quietly.

Drake tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

To be fair about it, Ezio did a lot of stupid things very frequently (like, ending up in bed with Cassandra, that was pretty fucking stupid, god), so maybe this shouldn’t surprise anyone. There were extra stupidity points awarded automatically to decisions that involved Morgyn in some manner, too, so that also shouldn’t surprise anyone. The trouble was, this one was a very stupid thing to do, if he was right in his assumptions, and he had no reason to think that he wasn’t.

Interestingly, the headache and difficulty remaining conscious didn’t seem to be as serious of a problem once the vampire in his head had been driven out. Ezio had to wonder if the vampire was also messing with Morgyn and incidentally exacerbated the issue. Or maybe something had changed.

Now he just felt paranoid.

“Morgyn’s collapsing episodes,” Ezio answered. “I figured out enough to know that they were caused by some kind of external thing. I even found it in Morgyn, or what I thought was its base, but I couldn’t figure out how to sever its connection with Morgyn. So instead of wondering how best to deal with it, I did a spell on Morgyn to redirect its effects from Morgyn onto me.”

Drake frowned slightly. “Is that why you were unconscious for a while?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Ezio answered. “I’d cast protection spells on Morgyn before then trying to ward it off, and it’d seem it was working to some extent because the pain wasn’t as bad. But I didn’t have any protection spells on me, of course.”

“So when you transferred it, it hit you really hard,” Drake said, realisation dawning in his tone.

“Exactly,” Ezio said. “Well, I sent Mayor Whiskers to look for Keisha, because she was the only sage left in range of us that wasn’t insane or asleep all the time. I figured she may have answers, right?”

“Right,” Drake said, nodding. “Did Mayor find her?”

“He did,” Ezio said. “But now I think that what I redirected the effects of was the All.”

Drake stared at him blankly, almost uncomprehendingly, for a moment, and then shook his head. “I’m sorry, you did what?”

Ezio sighed. “Keisha said that the All will defend itself when the barrier is threatened,” Ezio explained. “And the sages’ fates are tied to the All. Maybe it was like a… like a distress signal of some kind.”

“That’s a very inefficient distress signal,” Drake said.

“Well Morgyn wasn’t in magic realm either,” Ezio mentioned. “Who knows how it was affecting L and Simeon. At any rate, I think I’m now an honourary sage. Morgyn says the All’s been quiet. Maybe because it’s talking to me now. I hear voices I didn’t before. Get flashes from something I don’t recognise.”

Drake closed his eyes for a moment, then raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Ezio looked sheepish. Yeah, it wasn’t the greatest thing he’d ever done. But, it was probably the most predictable thing he’d ever done, or one of them. Ezio looked down at the floor. Sometimes, Drake was difficult to look at for long periods of time. It wasn’t shocking. Drake had been beautiful to him since France, and even now, centuries later, if Ezio spent too long staring at him, his heart did funny things and the urge to reach over and kiss him became almost too much to resist.

He wouldn’t. Ezio had been with plenty of other men before, and as much as Ezio could say that he did love Drake, and he did want him, he knew how it would end. The same way as it always did, of course. And Drake was so careful with him, part of what Ezio loved about him, he’d likely not take it very well, and Ezio didn’t want to incidentally hurt his feelings by still being too sensitive and jumpy.

Cassandra was luckily female. Things worked a little differently with women.

“What now?” Drake asked. “Can you undo it, or are you stuck with it?”

Ezio glanced up at him, and then shrugged. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I don’t entirely remember what I did, I was just sort of playing with things and adjusting as I went until I got the result I was after. Or at the very least, got a result that I couldn’t quite handle.”

Drake sighed again. “You sure are something, you know that?” he asked.

Ezio snorted. “Yeah, I know.”

* * *

It wasn’t exactly quiet. There was some kind of tense buzzing in the back of Ezio’s mind, but he couldn’t necessarily put words to it, nor explain it even in his own head. He shuffled around the kitchen, working on heating something up for dinner. Ezio set the oven to it, picked up a cup of tea off the counter, and settled down at the dining room table to wait.

There was a soft jingling sound, to the side of him. Ezio looked down just in time for Mayor to jump into his lap off the floor. It was rare that Mayor jumped into his lap. Ezio sighed, reaching down to pet the cat.

Just to the side was a ghost, pacing around back and forth behind the couch. Ezio was pointedly ignoring him. The ghost seemed to be pretty aware that Ezio could see him, and was for some reason pretending otherwise. It was unfortunate, of course. Ezio didn’t like ignoring them.

But he was the third one today, and it was beginning to give Ezio a headache.

Quietly, Ezio sipped at his tea, one fingernail tapping the side softly. The ghost continued to pace. Mayor Whiskers turned and stared out the window. The only thing on the other side of that window was a brick wall from the adjacent brownstone apartment building, but Mayor liked to watch for birds.

The oven released a hiss. The teapot gurgled. And then the air sang.

Ezio startled, turning his head to face the direction it sounded like it was coming from. Mayor’s ears twitched, and the ghost turned towards it, too.

Finally, Ezio’s eyes landed on the ghost. “You can hear that?” he asked.

The ghost seemed surprised he was talking to him, but he supposed the confusion was absolutely warranted in this situation. “Sure,” he answered.

“What is it? Do you know?” Ezio asked. He hadn’t met anyone else that could hear the melodic song, and Ezio was starting to think it was all in his head.

Well, technically, it was just his brain interpreting vibrations in the air and-that wasn’t the point.

“Strange that you don’t know,” the ghost said, tilting his head at the spellcaster. “You’re the bridge, after all, not me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ezio asked, frowning.

“Exactly what it sounds like,” the ghost answered, shuffling around and ‘sitting’ in the chair across the table from Ezio. He was an older man, hair starting to thin and fall out, laugh lines around his nose and his lips. “Ghosts are attracted to you, you know.”

“Because I’m a necromancer,” Ezio said, nodding.

“No,” the ghost corrected. “Because you are bright. Because when we don’t know where else to go, can’t find our way, there you are, shining like the sun and leading us home.”

Ezio looked more confused than he did when they’d begun this conversation, eyeing the ghost for a moment, before his gaze fell to the floor, one hand raising to press a finger against his lips in thought. He’d heard stories from ghosts before, of how everything was kind of a haze, and getting from one place to another was a simple matter of thinking about it, and then you were there.

One would think, of course, that a ghost’s ability to pick him out of the grey haze that they experienced as ghosts would be because Ezio was a necromancer, and his soul was a little different than others’ souls were. It was stronger, in a sense, it managed to radiate beyond his body. It was a difficult thing to explain and understand, of course.

One would apparently be wrong, and Ezio wasn’t sure what that meant.

“I didn’t know that,” he said softly.

“I know you didn’t,” the ghost answered. “No one’s ever told you, probably, seems kind of silly to assume you don’t know that. The song comes from the in-between.”

Ezio’s head snapped up, eyes staring at the ghost in confusion. The song came from the in-between? That wasn’t possible. “Why can I hear it, if it’s from the in-between?” he asked.

“The in-between is your throne room, Ezio,” the ghost replied, his arm resting on the table and propping his chin up. “It is the place you draw your power from, and your ruin. Ezio, all your roads lead to it, sooner or later. The song calls you to it. To your end. The longer you don’t answer it, the louder and more insistent it will become. It’s a quite simple cause and effect, really. Now, if you don’t mind, I just need to give my daughter a message, and then I will move on. Please, help me.”

The place he drew his power from, and his ruin, huh? That sure inspired confidence.

* * *

It seemed like the more questions Ezio asked, the more he gained. The answers that he was given made sense, at least, insofar as they answered the question satisfactorily, but they always led to more questions, and an ever-growing sense that no matter what Ezio did, he would never be able to reach the end of the road of questions.

No. It was more like, he was continually asking the wrong people the wrong questions. The trouble was, he didn’t know what questions he should be asking, nor to whom he should be asking them.

Ezio sat on the floor, trying to rearrange his final presentation to be a little more organised and make a bit more sense. Of course, his mind was going a thousand miles a second, and it was difficult to focus on the task at hand. He still had so many questions, and very little idea how to resolve them.

Morgyn, visiting from the Casa di Colori because it was quieter in Ezio’s apartment, was flopped over on the floor, propped up by a beanbag chair, reading a book.

Ezio kept glancing at the blond like he wanted to say, or ask, something, but he was never entirely sure what to say, or ask, and the words died on his lips.

The blond occasionally glanced back at him in confusion. Ezio just shrugged. He didn’t know what was going on in his own head anymore.

What he did know was, he wasn’t getting anywhere on this presentation. Ezio set his work down, pulling his knees up against his chest for a moment. Then, he stretched back out, crawled across the floor, and snuggled up against Morgyn.

Morgyn didn’t think anything of it, reaching down with the hand that wasn’t managing flipping the book’s pages, to finger-comb Ezio’s hair.

Ezio didn’t say anything, for a long moment, and then looked up at Morgyn. “Things are going to get worse, before they get any better, I think,” he said.

Morgyn raised an eyebrow, glancing down at him. “Of course they are,” the blond said. “That’s how these things work.”

“No, I mean…” Ezio started, releasing a sigh. “I mean really worse. I mean it may get so bad that we start questioning each other.” It was likely, even. If Aine was behind all of this, she’d been trying to turn them against each other for decades.

“Come on, Ezio,” Morgyn said, green eyes rolling slightly, “don’t be so melodramatic. It won’t come to that, our bond’s stronger than that. I trust you, I really do.”

Was that true? Morgyn seemed to believe it was true, but Ezio had to wonder. There were plenty of times already when Morgyn had questioned him and his motivations, and sometimes it was insulting. Other times, Ezio thought it was probably rather valid.

“Sometimes, I don’t think you should,” Ezio said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Morgyn asked.

“I just… I don’t.” There were things that went on in Ezio’s head sometimes that would probably make Morgyn wonder if Ezio was even fucking sane. Half the time, Ezio sure as hell did. “It’s hard to explain, there are just some things in my head sometimes that make even me wonder, and I’m just a weakness anyway-“

“You stop that right now,” Morgyn interrupted, “no you’re not.”

“A chain is only as strong-“

“-as its weakest link, I know, Ezio you’re my brother not a chain link, you shut your mouth. And everyone thinks bad things sometimes. It doesn’t mean they’re bad people. Acting on those bad thoughts is the problem.”

Ezio looked up at the blond, and then back down at the floor. “I should have more control over my thoughts than that.”

Morgyn released a huff. “That’s not exactly how it works. Trust me, I’ve been trying for years.”

“You’re too impulsive to control anything in that head of yours,” Ezio said.

“Hey, like you’re not?” Morgyn asked.

“I at least pretend otherwise way better than you do,” Ezio answered. Most of the time, Ezio did, anyway.

Morgyn pouted, gently shoving Ezio forward slightly, and then went back to petting his hair. They were quiet, for a long moment, but Ezio was thinking about the ghost issues, watching yet another ghost glide across the floor.

He was doomed to have a migraine for the next forever.

Unfortunately, not all ghosts were benevolent, and they all had a story to tell. And sometimes, that story, and the next one’s story, and the next one’s story, altogether, strong and impossible to block out, became too much.

It was very uncommon to find a necromancer over a certain age that was not insane.

“Morgyn, you know necromancy drives people insane,” Ezio said softly.

“What of it?” Morgyn asked. “And don’t tell me you think someday yours will. We’re not talking about that.”

“Closing your eyes to it doesn’t make it go away,” Ezio said.

“You’ve made it this far without losing it,” Morgyn answered, stubbornly. “I have no reason to think you won’t continue to.”

“I’m also a lot stronger now than I’ve been the entire rest of my life.” With his heart condition under better control now, his magic was starting to strengthen in response. It was getting difficult to tell ghosts and living people apart again, like it was when he was still a child. And maybe he couldn’t say for sure it was because he was stronger, and not because of whatever was going wrong with the realms. But it could easily be because of either one.

“You’re being doomsday,” Morgyn said, tone flat.

“Morgyn, just promise me,” Ezio asked, sitting up to look at Morgyn properly, “if anything happens and I do lose it-“

“You won’t,” Morgyn argued.

“If I do. Please,” Ezio said, “just end it. Don’t let me destroy everything.”

“I’m not promising that,” Morgyn stubbornly answered, head shaking. “I’d promise you anything, but not that. You ask someone that’s not me.”

“The only other person I might ask is Drake,” Ezio said, “and he probably won’t promise that either.”

“Then, there you go,” Morgyn said, giving him a look that seemed to imply he should’ve figured this earlier.

Ezio released a sigh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“So are you,” Morgyn answered. “Now shut up and accept that I love you, and I will not be what kills you.”

* * *

“I’ve got the nagging feeling that Aine’s involved,” Ezio said, pacing around in the very bare living room. “And with the ghosts so restless anymore, I can’t help but wonder what she’s doing.”

It was like she was misusing her necromancy and affecting the balance between the dimensions, but one necromancer shouldn’t be strong enough to be able to do that.

On the other hand, she wasn’t necessarily the only one, just the only one that Ezio knew about, and she was rather powerful. It was possible, though, and might be relatively easy, for a necromancer to control enough other necromancers and perhaps some vampires and spellcasters, that they’d essentially have an army.

In hindsight, that could’ve easily been what Aine was doing, or at least trying to do, with raising the vampires thirty years before. Ezio never did figure out what she was doing, because after he took Kat down, Aine seemed to get a little less careless in her actions and she’d essentially fallen off the radar.

“It’s bad?” Drake asked, crossing one leg over the other as he leaned against the counter.

Ezio looked over at him, and then went back to pacing. “There’s a new ghost hanging around our apartment building every time I wake up, I swear it,” Ezio explained. “It’s getting hard to focus on schoolwork. On anything.”

“Have they at least been telling you why they’re here?” Drake asked.

Ezio released a sigh, his hands dropping to his side as he stopped in the living room. “One told me I’m the bridge, and the in-between is my throne room, whatever that means.” And that it was both the source of his power, and his ruin, but Ezio thought perhaps he’d leave that particular bit out.

“That’s not cryptic as fuck,” Drake grumbled.

Of course it was. Ghosts were terrible about being straight-forward. Drake was fortunate enough not to have to deal with them as often as Ezio did.

“It doesn’t tell me anything about what Aine’s up to or how to find or stop her,” Ezio said.

“I don’t think you can handle Aine by yourself,” Drake said, sounding uncertain and a little worried, eyebrows drawing together.

Ezio tilted his head at him. “You said that the last time, Drake. How much stronger do I need to be before I can take Aine out, then?” If he couldn’t take her out now, when he was the strongest he’d ever been in his life, then when would he be strong enough?

“I will never be okay with this,” Drake said. “But as I’ve said before, you’ll do as you do.”

“I can’t ignore this,” Ezio said softly. It wasn’t that simple. And even if he tried to ignore it, eventually he’d start getting migraines from spirits that had been in this dimension too long, it was really just a huge mess. “I have to fix it.”

“And why does it always have to be you?” Drake suddenly burst out with. “Why can’t you let someone else do the stupid shit for once?! There are dozens of other necromancers in the world, Ezio, please. Just…” Drake pushed off the counter, pacing around too, running a hand through his hair.

And like it always did when this happened, Ezio’s heart clenched in his chest, as he remembered just how much Drake went through because of him.

Why Drake never seemed to be interested in leaving and maybe living a much less stressful life, Ezio never did understand. And he was afraid of asking, most of the time, because Ezio couldn’t imagine living a life that Drake wasn’t in, and Ezio didn’t want him to suddenly remember that he didn’t have to stay, and go.

Ezio crossed the space between them, stopping Drake mid-pace and taking his hands in his own.

“There may be dozens of other necromancers in the world,” Ezio said, “but the ghosts aren’t going to them.”

Drake snorted. “Maybe they are, and you’re just not seeing it,” he answered.

“It doesn’t mean I can ignore the ones that are here any more than I could otherwise.” They were still here, and not somewhere else. For all intents and purposes, they were his problem, not someone else’s. “I was given necromancy for a reason.” Everything happened for a reason, though they didn’t always know what that reason was.

“That seems to be so you can suffer more,” Drake said quietly. “Because something seems to think you haven’t done that enough already.”

“It’s not that bad,” Ezio said, frowning.

“If you say so.” Drake didn’t sound convinced but then he never did.

Ezio released a soft breath, raising one hand to rest against Drake’s cheek. Drake turned his head and leaned into the contact. “You worry too much,” Ezio said.

“I don’t think there’s a such thing as worrying too much when it comes to you,” Drake answered wryly.

“I feel like I should be offended, but, I can’t be,” Ezio answered, smiling just slightly.

“Because I’m right,” Drake answered, “and you know it.”

Ezio snorted softly, leaning forward and resting his forehead against Drake’s. He was just a tiny bit taller than Ezio was, more slender in build. With his ears pointed like they were, Drake kind of looked like what Ezio imagined an elf would.

Surprisingly, or not, Ezio really missed his hair. It’d been beautiful, and then Drake went and cut it off because his publishers were so worried about public image. To hell with public image.

Everything else had drowned out, and Ezio straightened up, his heels making him just a bit taller than he was usually; he could reach easier, and he moved to catch Drake’s lips with his own. Ezio realised what he was doing, and stopped, however, looking up at him, wordlessly asking if he was okay with it. Not once had Drake ever crossed any lines with Ezio. It’d be a poor way of repaying that, to do it himself.

Drake seemed surprised by it, and it took a moment for him to do anything in response. Then he did, and their lips met. Ezio moved, the kiss deepening, as Ezio pressed a little closer to him, and then before he lost his sense like he did with Cassandra, Ezio fluidly backed away.

He still wasn’t quite ready for that to go much further than it already had, though most of him wanted more. Drake seemed disappointed, a little, but wordlessly took Ezio’s hand in his.

“Thank you,” Ezio said. “For caring so much.”

“Someone has to,” Drake said quietly. “Have you told Morgyn? About Aine.”

Ezio sighed, and shook his head. “I can’t,” he said. “I can’t hurt Morgyn that way.” And it would hurt, eventually, when Morgyn realised just what Aine had done, to magic realm, to L and Keisha, to Morgyn.

“It may hurt less than you expect,” Drake said. “Trust Morgyn to trust you, mm? Morgyn should know that you wouldn’t say something like that if it wasn’t the truth as you know it. And trust Morgyn to be strong enough to handle it.”

Ezio smiled slightly, glancing down at the floor.

The problem, of course, was that Ezio didn’t think he could do any of those things.

* * *

He had bigger problems. Though Ezio was still confused by what the ghost had said the day before, worrying about what was going on in magic realm, and the vampire threat that had cropped up out of nowhere, that seemed more important at the moment.

Ezio could only do so much at once, after all.

Besides, they were moving soon, and Ezio was about ready for the move to be over with already. He was tired of it by now.

It was about time for a check-in with Troi, too. Ezio lay down on the bare floor, staring at the ceiling. His bed was still here, so it wasn’t like he had to lie down on the floor, it was just cooler down here. Ezio didn’t have much of a heat tolerance, as it turned out.

As he lie there staring at the ceiling and thinking to himself, he could sense the air change, and then something moved at the corner of his eye. Ezio didn’t bother looking at it, right away, trying not to roll his eyes instead.

“… again?” he asked the air.

He could hear laughing. It seemed this one was female, or had a very smooth voice. “I’m just here, I don’t need anything.”

Ezio rolled over on the floor, towards the direction the voice was coming from. “Then why are you here, exactly?”

“You’re the bridge,” the ghost woman answered, shrugging. “You’re the safe one. You’ll fix this eventually, right what has gone so wrong.”

And what exactly was that? Ezio had been wondering for some time now, and now he had to wonder if perhaps he could get an answer from the ghosts themselves. They certainly all seemed to know there was something going on in the first place, and that was a start. “What’s gone so wrong?”

The ghost looked a little surprised to be asked, and then shrugged again. “The worlds are a bit messed up now. Not sure what happened, but the things that are supposed to be dark are too bright, the things that are supposed to be bright are too dark, and it’s hard to tell the living from the dead anymore. You noticed it, right? Ghosts are starting to look more alive? Living people are starting to look dead?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Ezio answered, but he did remember thinking more than once that it was harder to tell the living from the dead. Like it used to be when he was much younger. Were the worlds spilling into each other? That seemed like a very bad thing to him; the dawnlands, the dusklands, and the in-between were separate for a reason.

In the cracks between lie the key, the answer to this entropy, his mind filled in, but he couldn’t remember the rest of it. It was something Keisha had told him once, a very long time ago. A riddle or rhyme about the in-between that talked about what it was for and something that was in it.

Maybe the thing that was in the in-between had leaked out of it. That almost made sense, except, he wasn’t sure how it would’ve gotten out without them noticing.

“Huh, well you should, maybe it’ll make more sense to you than it does to me,” the ghost said. “Something is messed up. Really messed up.”

Yeah, Ezio had figured that much out. He looked annoyed, probably, as Drake wandered out of the office and closed the door behind him.

“Ghost again?” Drake asked, pausing beside Ezio and looking at the, to him blank, space where the ghost was.

She looked up at him, and almost immediately looked a little star struck.

Ezio couldn’t help the stab of annoyance. And then wondered why he apparently felt threatened by a ghost. Probably because they could, and sometimes did, possess people. It was rude.

“Yeah, a few of them actually,” Ezio said.

Another stood by the window, one rolling around on the floor in the kitchen, and there was a third that had disappeared into the bathroom and Ezio hadn’t thought too much about beyond that.

“Anything I can help with?” Drake asked.

“Probably not,” Ezio answered, tilting his head back to look at Drake and smile. “But thank you for asking.”

Drake smiled, and went into the kitchen, walking through the ghost on the floor, headed for the plasma fruit and a blender.

Ezio tilted his head, and once again, he wondered what it’d be like to be a vampire. If, maybe, he could live with it.

“You should keep that one,” the ghost he’d been talking to said. “He’s cute and he’s got manners.”

Yeah. It helped that Drake had his heart, too.

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