Ezio Auditore Da Firenze (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
collectsfeathers) wrote2018-10-26 04:07 pm
collectsfeathers) wrote2018-10-26 04:07 pm
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My story is one of many thousands and the world will not suffer if it ends too soon
There's a desperate pleading contained within her voice that makes everything inside of him ache, the knowledge that he put it there, that he's responsible for it almost more thane he can bear.
He wouldn't let her go. He would never let her go. For the rest of his entire life he would belong to her. There would be other's - were others - but they would never - had never held a candle to her.
She's trembling, softly and barely noticeable as she traces along the scar that splits his lips, as he turns his head and presses them into her palm.]
Si. I will listen to anything you wish to tell me, Tesoro.
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For a human to cause this kind of reaction... There hadn't been any doubt in her heart, but know she knows for certain, has an exact moment to point to, and she breathes out softly as she makes her body relax.]
You know now that we were programmed to love our creators, but humans were gone from Earth long before I was produced. I was made in orbit by my fellow androids, and you were one of the first humans I met here. We are made to love you, but we were also born into a world without you.
[Which, she supposes, is a good way to start out, but probably it would be better to focus on things that are personal.]
The first thing I should tell you is that I haven't been honest about my designation. 2B means that I am a Battle unit with personality profile number two, but that's just a cover. [And she stumbles here, eyes cutting away almost like she's ashamed to be telling him this, afraid of it lowering his opinion of her.] Truthfully, my name is 2E. I'm an Elimination unit tasked to destroy my fellow soldiers when they defect or learn things they shouldn't know.
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Ezio had known love before this, had known, without doubt, that it was what he felt for her. But within this moment it transformed, changed into something deeper, something stronger and more powerful. Looking back, it would be this night that he would he would remember, that he would recall as the instant he fell in love with her. And there would never be any going back.
He listens carefully, remaining silent and allowing her to speak until she came to a natural pause. It wasn't entirely surprising that he was one of the first humans she had met upon her arrival here - he had been all too aware of just how many first he held of hers.
To have been programmed to love humans only to be born into a world without them seemed needlessly cruel, like dangling food in front of a starving man with no real intention of ever giving it to them. But here he makes no comment, allows her to continue speaking.
At first it doesn't quite make sense. Why would her designation or the lies she had told about it matter to him? She was still herself, still his 2B. But then her eyes cut away, fall away as if she's embarrassed or ashamed, and when she speaks it all suddenly makes sense.
She wasn't a battle unit. She was an assassin unit.
Their targets may have been so very different, but like called to like.]
2B. [Her name is so quietly spoken that his voice is barely above a whisper as he reaches upwards, gently cupping her chin with his thumb and forefinger, encouraging her to look at him.] The life of an assassin is pain. You suffer it. You inflict it. You watch it happen. All in the hope that one day you can help make it disappear.
It is not easy, and I am sorry that you have been made to suffer it. That you were not given that choice.
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The human she loves so terribly.]
Until I came here I knew it would never stop. Not until...
[And now, the part she dreads. Her eyes search his and she covers his hand with hers, trying to find the easiest, least painful way for him to hear what she needs him to know. She moves closer to him so that she can sit beside him, still cradling his hand between both of hers, and does her best to be gentle.]
There are few things that could really kill an android. Our bodies could be destroyed, but as long as there was a copy of our consciousness saved we were never really gone. Some of the androids that I killed were able to return, but never with the memories of why they had to be killed. Our base was called the Bunker, and as long as we were deemed safe enough to stay there we could be returned to a new body.
It was the ones who had no body to return to that died permanently. With no Bunker they had no hope, but we were safe. It wasn't until the Bunker was lost that the danger came, and with it...
[Her voice fails her again, cutting out when she tries again to tell him what she must, and this time she tips her head down and forces through it with a low, sorrowful voice.]
I was infected with a virus that was slowing killing me, and with no Bunker to return to I had no hope of a fresh start. I died without a Bunker to restore me, Ezio. I no longer exist in my own world.
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Somewhere in his subconscious something is screaming desperately at him that this is going to hurt, that it's going to be enough to shatter him and that he shouldn't listen, shouldn't stay there only to have more pain inflicted upon him.
But it's her and he had already failed her once, had already placed the distance between them that had led to this moment. He wasn't going to fail her now, wasn't going to run away from her simply because what she was about to say might hurt.
Then it comes and it does more than shatter him. It destroys him completely. Because all he can see is images of Christina flashing before his eyes. Of how he loved her. Of how he gave her up. Of how he thought it was for the best. Of how he had made a mistake.
Of how she died in his arms.
There was no going back. Christina was gone and she wasn't coming back. There were no second chances for them.
But.
But.
2B was right in front of him, warm and solid and alive. This was her second chance, and in it, they had found each other. God, how he wanted nothing more than to keep her safe, to find a way so she would have a world to return to. To live the life free of the pain being an assassin brought.
There's a very distinct look of total and complete devastation upon his face, and he can't even hide it from her. Breathing comes quickly now as his body fights against the deep, visceral pain of it. It's without even thinking that he reaches for her, arms wrapping around her so tightly it should be crushing, pulling her into him, onto his lap, desperate to be as close to her as their bodies will allow. ]
2B. [Her name is whispered against her skin, and it sounds so different, so small compared to normal. One hand slips into her hair as he buries his face into the crook of her neck.
And for the very first time in his entire life, the tears can actually come. They don't need to be pushed down, down, down until they form a hard, hot ball deep inside of him that can never be moved or broken. They're short and few, but they come all the same.]
I am sorry, my love. I wish that I could save you.
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But it had felt like a certain kind of release, the end of her mission to kill that came right as the Bunker fell and Command was ended once and for all. She would have been free if she had lived, but instead she had earned that rest in death.
Now, here, she has earned a second chance that she had felt blessed to receive. Not only had she been delivered to a place filled with humans, she had been put here to cause pleasure, to show them how she loves them and not to hurt a soul. More than that, 9S was here and safe, uncertain and seeming to be on a different page than her when it came to their service and what they should be doing, but here.
And then she had met Ezio on that very first day and she knows that he has changed her. Even now, having a human pull her in to find his comfort in her arms feels like more than she's worthy of.]
You have. You showed me that I can be more than Command wanted me to be.
[Just admitting that is probably grounds for another E unit to be flagged to keep an eye on her, but what can it possibly matter here? She holds him closed, head bowed so she can kiss his shoulder, the side of his neck, and she rubs his back as soothingly as she can manage. His tears soak her dress but she doesn't care, only trembles in the face of his pain and lets him squeeze her as hard as he may need to. He won't hurt her, can't hurt her, and it feels good to be so cared for.]
I was programmed to love humans, but it wasn't until I knew you that I understood what that meant. It wasn't until I knew you that I understood that there would be some I didn't like and one who would always be above all the rest.
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But there was no way to enact revenge for her death. There was nothing urgent seeking his time and pulling him away. There was only her, and here she was alive and real, and he knew in that moment that he would stay here forever if it meant getting to be with her.
Until the end of his days he would be hers. Her human.
She speaks, her voice breaking through the fog of suffering, lips pressing against his skin and he centers himself there, against her. He no longer fears that her feelings are somehow programmed or manufactured - and how could he ever, when he could feel the way she cared for him when they were together, when she was in his arms?
The flow of tears quickly ceasing, he shifts, moves his head from her neck to gently rest his forehead against her own. Slips one of his hands from her, seeks out those waiting fingers and intertwins them. Strong, unbreakable, like the bond that formed between them.]
I do not deserve such a precious gift. [To be her most favored felt such a blessing, and he didn't know what he had done to earn it.] You have my heart, Tesoro. And I love you with all of it.
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She can't. It's a thing that she's come to accept at this point and it doesn't hurt that he seems to flourish under her touch, so she doesn't hold back. Not now, not when she knows how close she had come to losing him.]
If I believed that was true I wouldn't have accepted your proposal. There isn't anywhere I would rather be.
[She brings their linked hands up to her chest, presses his palm against where her heart would be, and while there's no beating under his hand there's the warmth of her body, the steady rise and fall of her synthetic breathing. There's a thrum of something that feels like life, and while she can't open her chest and point to her heart, her soul, this is where the intensity of her feelings for him comes from.
It is her heart, for all that it isn't a tangible thing, and he has hers just the same as she has his.]
I belong to you, Ezio. You will always be the only human I want to come home to.
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Would she be able to accept all of the negatives? Would she even be able to see them? Part of him feared what might happen if she saw those parts of his soul that were dark and ugly, filled with shattered glass and rough-edged stones. The parts of him were capable of causing other's to suffer, of bringing them pain. Of ending their lives. Would she still be able to look at him the same?
She brings his hand to her chest, to her heart, and it's so strange not to feel it beating against his palm. She's warm and solid and so very real but even now he has to remind himself that her heart isn't the same as his. It isn't an organ used to pump blood throughout her body, despite the thrum of life he so clearly feels beneath his fingertips. No, it's so much deeper than that, beyond anything his eyes can see or his hands can feel. It's what his soul feels he's near her, like he's suddenly found all of the missing pieces to a puzzle that has been broken for so long. It's her soul that calls to him, a siren song he can't deny. That he's never been able to deny.
The sky is blue, water is wet and she belongs to him as he belongs to her. As if it's the simplest, most natural thing in the entire world.
All it takes is canting his head forward just a fraction to close the space left between them, to press his lips against hers softly, slow and tender. He was alright with this, with the knowledge that she may also desire to return home to her fellow android. Anything, so long as she was happy, so long as she was at peace. Being her human was worth everything.
Only when his lungs begin to run out of air do his lips finally part from hers, and for what feels like an eternity all he does is simply allow himself to stare at her, to get lost in the depts of her eyes, in the curve of her lips, in the paleness of her skin.
She's so incredibly beautiful. And she's his.
Slow movements bring them to the edge of the couch where they sit, hands going to her waist, her thigh, holding her in place against him as he stands. As he carries through their darkened apartment into the room they now share. Only letting go of her once he reaches the bed, and then only long enough to deposit her upon the surface and crawl onto it after. It's easier like this, to wrap himself around her, to hold her close to him, to drop kisses into her hair, to her face, to her neck. To simply be with her, for as long as she'll allow.]
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Perhaps she is blinded by her love for him, but she couldn't begin to care. When he looks at her the way he does, eyes red from crying but still so clear as he gazes up at her while she's in his lap, it's enough to make her happy for the rest of her synthetic life. She adores him and as long as he is by her side, nothing else matters. He stares and she flushes under the attention but doesn't look away, just gazes right back at him with clear adoration, fingertips carding through his hair or a gentle hand massaging the back of his neck soothingly, and it isn't until he lifts her up that she even realizes time has passed.
That's certainly a failing of some internal sensor, but it's hard for her to care.]
9S doesn't know what happened to me. He can never know.
[But that's a statement for outside of their bedroom, this space that feels almost sacred as he locks them inside it. 9S is never far from her heart and yet all she has room for once that door closes behind them is Ezio, his warm hands on her body, the soft feeling of familiar sheets against her skin as he lays her down.
She wraps her arms around him to guide him down to her, pressing a kiss to his forehead, his cheek, stealing one from his mouth. It's too easy to entwine her legs with his and make sure there's no space between them, to nuzzle her nose into his neck and indulge the need to be so closer to the one she loves so desperately.]
Whatever you need, I'll always be her for you, amore.
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Was he the only one who knew now? The sole keeper of all of her secrets. He would take all of them, would hold them inside himself, would bury them where no one else could find if it meant she no longer had to carry the full weight and pain of them alone.
But he doesn't speak of it once that door has closed, both physical and metaphorical, keeping them separated and safe from the world outside. Beyond that barrier, it was only them, their space and their time. This room had always only ever been for her, for them.
They're so incredibly close, yet it still feels as if they're so far apart, leg's intertwined, arms wrapped tightly about one another. Lips seeking out skin, pressing into her shoulder, her neck, allowing as many kisses to be stolen from his lips as she wants.]
I need you, my love. Nothing more. [There's a desire there now, to tell her of the suffering of his past, to wrap up all of his secrets and give them to her, to have and to hold forever.] There are so many things I should tell you. But I do not know how to start.
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For now, she's more than happy to focus on this moment of comfort and reconnection. The fact that she had nearly lost him hits her again as she curls her body more securely against his, her hands pulling just a little too tightly at his shoulders to keep him where he is, her kisses coming with an edge of panic before he manages to soothe her, show her that everything is fine again.
With every kiss she feels grounded and safe, her entire body seeming to melt against his, and by the time he speaks most of her fears have been assuaged. When he speaks she strokes his hair, still trying to soothe, and steals one more kiss from him.]
Start with what burdens you the most, the thing that hurts you most. After that, everything is easy.
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Giving her up may have seemed like the right thing to do, as though it would be better for everyone. But then, giving up Cristina, allowing her to be married to someone else had seemed like the good and proper thing to do too. And she had spent the rest of her life loving him, longing after him. He had already given up one great love, he would not force the same fate onto another.
How could he start with what burdened him most when all of it felt like such a great weight, drawing him down into an endless ocean of loss and suffering?
Drawing in a deep breath, eyes falling closed as he bent his head, resting it upon her own.]
Cristina. [How long has it been since he had spoken her name out loud?] We were so young when we met, but I fell for her the moment I saw her. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. [The only one who had ever compared was the one who was currently laying wrapped within his arms.] After the deaths of my father and brothers, I had to leave Firenze. I asked her to come with me, but she did not want to leave her family.
By the time I went back to her, she was already engaged to another. I thought it was for the best. To let her go. So I left her there to get married. It was years before I saw her again. She yelled at me for leaving her. That it didn't matter if I thought it was for the best because she loved me. And then she walked away.
[He wished now that he had never left her that day. That he had asked her again to come with him. But that wasn't the sort of life he wanted for her. He had seen what it did to Claudia. He couldn't have done that to Cristina.]
The last time I saw her, she was being attacked by Girolamo Savonarola's fanatics. I tried to save her, but it was too late. She died in my arms. Her last words were that she had always been with me. That she wished we could have had a second chance.