AC2 Fic: In Sickness & In Health
So it seems being sick has given me an idea.
Title: In Sickness & In Health
Characters: Ezio/Leonardo
Rating: T
Summary: Ezio has come down with the common cold, and it's up to Leonardo to take care of him.
There had been nights where Leonardo had honestly thought Ezio would die. There had been times when the assassin was feverish and shaking and all Leonardo could do was pray. Leonardo would hold him tightly and watch a ghost pale Ezio quake and scream at invisible demons. There had been nights where Leonardo had stayed awake, wondering if he would have to amputate a limb to save Ezio’s life. Those nights, he would find himself fixated on the limb, wondering how Ezio would cope if he woke up missing an arm or a leg. There had been days where Ezio had bled so much Leonardo had thought it a wonder the man had any blood left in him. Leonardo was not a squeamish man, but sometimes the wounds Ezio bore made him feel ill. Yet through it all, Ezio had remained strong. Not a single word of complaint had passed his lips. Even when he watched Leonardo sewing his skin back together, the only words to pass his lips were those of a quiet thank-you at the end. It was impressive, to say the least. Overall, Leonardo would have said Ezio was an impressive man - until he had seen this.
“My throat hurts.”
“Si, Ezio, I know,” Leonardo replied calmly, trying not to laugh. He had lost count of how many times he had heard it since Ezio had come down with a cold. At least twelve times that morning. Possibly more: and that wasn’t counting Ezio’s complaints about a headache, a stomach ache or general wooziness. It had started innocently enough, with a slight sniffle, followed by a sneeze. Now Ezio was lying back in Leonardo’s bed, pillows piled up around him and surrounded by blankets. It had to be one of the most comical things Leonardo had ever seen. There was even a pale blue blanket around Ezio’s shoulders, which the assassin had tugged up to form a makeshift hood.
“And my nose feels stuffy,” Ezio added. Leonardo nodded, smiling slightly as he pressed a bowl of warm vegetable soup into Ezio’s waiting hands. Ezio’s nose was bright red from the amount of sneezing he’d done. Sullenly, without a single word of thanks, Ezio began to slurp down the soup. Leonardo disappeared downstairs for a minute, returning with a bowl of his own just a minute later. He knew better than to complain about Ezio’s obvious lack of manners. Ezio was polite enough when he felt well, but apparently manners with a cold were beyond him. As he sat down beside Ezio, the assassin spoke again.
“I think I have the plague.”
“You don’t have the plague, Ezio. It’s just a cold.”
“It’s the plague,” Ezio said stubbornly, and Leonardo realised he may well lose the battle not to laugh. Really, it was a miracle he’d held out this long. Carefully placing his soup on the bedside table, he took Ezio’s hand and squeezed it gently. Sometimes, it was easier just to ignore what Ezio was saying and let him tire himself out. Ezio continued explaining exactly why he was so certain it was the plague until he interrupted himself with a spectacular sneeze.
“Bless you,” Leonardo said mildly, picking up his soup now that he was no longer at risk of spilling it from laughter. Ezio glared at him, but the menacing effect was rather ruined by a second sneeze. Leonardo repeated himself, smiling kindly at Ezio as he passed him a clean handkerchief.
“You’re not taking me seriously.”
“Of course I am, Ezio.”
“You don’t think I have the plague,” Ezio said sullenly. Honestly, Leonardo thought, anyone seeing Ezio pouting like this would think not having the plague was a bad thing. Humouring his younger friend, Leonardo slowly explained exactly why there was no way Ezio could have the plague, and it was quite obviously just a cold. Leonardo would even be willing to guess the cause of the cold - Ezio had recently completed a contract which involved staying in Venice’s freezing canals for an unhealthy amount of time. True, he had been armed with a special suit of Leonardo’s own design, but it was still too much to expect of Ezio’s immune system for him to escape unscathed.
“Ezio,” he said gently, realising the assassin wasn’t listening to a word he said. “Two days. If you aren’t better then, I’ll believe you.”
_____________________________
“Feel any better?” Leonardo asked, not quite as cheerfully as he might have normally. Two days had passed, and Ezio seemed back to his normal self. The assassin nuzzled his neck affectionately, his lips curling into a smirk against Leonardo’s skin.
“All thanks to you, caro mio.”
Leonardo blushed. As much as he would like to have come up with a witty reply, his words were lost in a spectacular sneeze.
“Leonardo?” Ezio asked, concerned. Leonardo glared at him, crossing both arms across his chest.
“I think you’ve given me your plague.”
Title: In Sickness & In Health
Characters: Ezio/Leonardo
Rating: T
Summary: Ezio has come down with the common cold, and it's up to Leonardo to take care of him.
There had been nights where Leonardo had honestly thought Ezio would die. There had been times when the assassin was feverish and shaking and all Leonardo could do was pray. Leonardo would hold him tightly and watch a ghost pale Ezio quake and scream at invisible demons. There had been nights where Leonardo had stayed awake, wondering if he would have to amputate a limb to save Ezio’s life. Those nights, he would find himself fixated on the limb, wondering how Ezio would cope if he woke up missing an arm or a leg. There had been days where Ezio had bled so much Leonardo had thought it a wonder the man had any blood left in him. Leonardo was not a squeamish man, but sometimes the wounds Ezio bore made him feel ill. Yet through it all, Ezio had remained strong. Not a single word of complaint had passed his lips. Even when he watched Leonardo sewing his skin back together, the only words to pass his lips were those of a quiet thank-you at the end. It was impressive, to say the least. Overall, Leonardo would have said Ezio was an impressive man - until he had seen this.
“My throat hurts.”
“Si, Ezio, I know,” Leonardo replied calmly, trying not to laugh. He had lost count of how many times he had heard it since Ezio had come down with a cold. At least twelve times that morning. Possibly more: and that wasn’t counting Ezio’s complaints about a headache, a stomach ache or general wooziness. It had started innocently enough, with a slight sniffle, followed by a sneeze. Now Ezio was lying back in Leonardo’s bed, pillows piled up around him and surrounded by blankets. It had to be one of the most comical things Leonardo had ever seen. There was even a pale blue blanket around Ezio’s shoulders, which the assassin had tugged up to form a makeshift hood.
“And my nose feels stuffy,” Ezio added. Leonardo nodded, smiling slightly as he pressed a bowl of warm vegetable soup into Ezio’s waiting hands. Ezio’s nose was bright red from the amount of sneezing he’d done. Sullenly, without a single word of thanks, Ezio began to slurp down the soup. Leonardo disappeared downstairs for a minute, returning with a bowl of his own just a minute later. He knew better than to complain about Ezio’s obvious lack of manners. Ezio was polite enough when he felt well, but apparently manners with a cold were beyond him. As he sat down beside Ezio, the assassin spoke again.
“I think I have the plague.”
“You don’t have the plague, Ezio. It’s just a cold.”
“It’s the plague,” Ezio said stubbornly, and Leonardo realised he may well lose the battle not to laugh. Really, it was a miracle he’d held out this long. Carefully placing his soup on the bedside table, he took Ezio’s hand and squeezed it gently. Sometimes, it was easier just to ignore what Ezio was saying and let him tire himself out. Ezio continued explaining exactly why he was so certain it was the plague until he interrupted himself with a spectacular sneeze.
“Bless you,” Leonardo said mildly, picking up his soup now that he was no longer at risk of spilling it from laughter. Ezio glared at him, but the menacing effect was rather ruined by a second sneeze. Leonardo repeated himself, smiling kindly at Ezio as he passed him a clean handkerchief.
“You’re not taking me seriously.”
“Of course I am, Ezio.”
“You don’t think I have the plague,” Ezio said sullenly. Honestly, Leonardo thought, anyone seeing Ezio pouting like this would think not having the plague was a bad thing. Humouring his younger friend, Leonardo slowly explained exactly why there was no way Ezio could have the plague, and it was quite obviously just a cold. Leonardo would even be willing to guess the cause of the cold - Ezio had recently completed a contract which involved staying in Venice’s freezing canals for an unhealthy amount of time. True, he had been armed with a special suit of Leonardo’s own design, but it was still too much to expect of Ezio’s immune system for him to escape unscathed.
“Ezio,” he said gently, realising the assassin wasn’t listening to a word he said. “Two days. If you aren’t better then, I’ll believe you.”
_____________________________
“Feel any better?” Leonardo asked, not quite as cheerfully as he might have normally. Two days had passed, and Ezio seemed back to his normal self. The assassin nuzzled his neck affectionately, his lips curling into a smirk against Leonardo’s skin.
“All thanks to you, caro mio.”
Leonardo blushed. As much as he would like to have come up with a witty reply, his words were lost in a spectacular sneeze.
“Leonardo?” Ezio asked, concerned. Leonardo glared at him, crossing both arms across his chest.
“I think you’ve given me your plague.”