[Alastair takes a deep breath. He had rehearsed a hundred different ways to start, but of course they all fly from his mind the moment he's actually called on to do it.]
You... you've been very distant lately.
[It's not accusatory, just a simple statement of fact. A concern. It's a start.]
[A sigh escapes him, Ezio looking down for a moment, and he actually lets out an amused huff. Then, he leans against a chair, and looks back up towards Alastair.]
Sì, she has died. Back home, she is gone.
[And that, no matter how much he tries to ignore it, rattles him to the core.
Yet another person who dies, who he will never get close to, as he has here. Everything he touches, dies.]
But it's not hesitation, it's how to phrase himself correctly. So that the other will understand. Understand what he's thinking, and being honest at the same time.
Less than two weeks ago, they were in the opposite positions. The irony does not escape him. But it also shows that his novices are learning.]
Alastair, you are aware of how Caterina and I are around each other. I will not lie to you and say there is not something there.
[He pauses. Breathes. This is hard enough for him to say for himself, let alone someone else.]
It does not exist back home. It cannot. There are too many risks, too much danger for us to even try. That is what we must learn, in being an Assassin. Love is powerful, but also dangerous.
[A beat.] In learning of this, of her death, and that she never regained her home... [He looks away at this point, doesn't meet the boy's eyes.] I know I will go back to a life where I do not remember anything here, of anything with the Bureau in this city, or of anything with her. I will return, and never see her again.
[He will have nothing. All over again. And while he remembers the love he has of his novices, and the people all around him, it's not the same.
[There's a long period of silence at that. Both hands are resting on the chair now, and as the seconds tick away, Ezio's fingers curl and uncurl as Alastair's words repeat themselves over and over in his head.
Yes. Caterina is dead back home. He can never have the relationship with her that he has here. Back home, he cannot allow himself to be so open or show so much of himself to one person. Back home, he is an Assassin.
But this is not home.
Alastair is right, and while it will take Ezio a bit longer to fully and completely understand it, it's a beginning. He finally straightens, breathes out a little, and gives the faintest of a smile at the boy.
Already, he has grown so much.]
That is true. There is still much here that we do not have at home. [He pauses, considers his words.] I will remember that.
Grazie, Alastair. [It's said with sincerity, a moment where he is found vulnerable among his students. It only proves that even he is human, like them, and feels just as they do, even at the worst of times.]
[Alastair watches Ezio as he thinks. His words had some effect, that much is certain, so Alastair will have to trust that he did say the right thing. He exhales and nods.]
You're welcome.
[It's true that here they lack so much from home, but what they've created here, what they've been given, that balances it out, doesn't it? Maybe Alastair is reaching for balance where it doesn't exist for the comfort of it, but he's starting to think it might be true.]
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You... you've been very distant lately.
[It's not accusatory, just a simple statement of fact. A concern. It's a start.]
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He's learning. Slowly.]
That I have. Are you concerned, fratello?
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Yes.
[He hesitates.]
I spoke with Caterina.
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[It is a statement uttered as he traces along a table, eyes diverted from the other's gaze, both intrigued and wondering what she has told him.]
And what did she say?
[He does look back up at him at that. He's curious, and wondering how well the conversation went.]
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She told me she died.
[He says it quietly, calmly.
He pauses, and a small smile flickers at the corner of his lips.]
And she told me not to do anything rash.
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[Ezio cocks an eyebrow at that, the hint of a smile on his face, and looks around where they are.]
She must be thinking of someone else.
[Says the man who watched this boy tear apart a room in his fury...]
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[That's not funny. And Alastair definitely doesn't think it's funny.
Also you're getting awfully close to changing the subject.]
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Sì, she has died. Back home, she is gone.
[And that, no matter how much he tries to ignore it, rattles him to the core.
Yet another person who dies, who he will never get close to, as he has here. Everything he touches, dies.]
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He's quiet, thinking about what to say.]
That's... not all, though?
[He's not nearly as good at reading people as Ezio is, not yet, but Alastair feels like if it were just that, Ezio wouldn't be as distant as he is.]
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But it's not hesitation, it's how to phrase himself correctly. So that the other will understand. Understand what he's thinking, and being honest at the same time.
Less than two weeks ago, they were in the opposite positions. The irony does not escape him. But it also shows that his novices are learning.]
Alastair, you are aware of how Caterina and I are around each other. I will not lie to you and say there is not something there.
[He pauses. Breathes. This is hard enough for him to say for himself, let alone someone else.]
It does not exist back home. It cannot. There are too many risks, too much danger for us to even try. That is what we must learn, in being an Assassin. Love is powerful, but also dangerous.
[A beat.] In learning of this, of her death, and that she never regained her home... [He looks away at this point, doesn't meet the boy's eyes.] I know I will go back to a life where I do not remember anything here, of anything with the Bureau in this city, or of anything with her. I will return, and never see her again.
[He will have nothing. All over again. And while he remembers the love he has of his novices, and the people all around him, it's not the same.
It never will be.]
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Maybe not completely, but enough.]
You're here now, though. And so is she.
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Sì, I am aware.
[But it's difficult for grief to see beyond just what lies before him- to go past that and see the good. For now, at least.]
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You can't change what happened back home.
[He hesitates. It's... weird talking to Ezio like this.]
I don't think... you should let what you can't change there haunt you when... she is still here.
She's... been given a second chance. And so have you.
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Yes. Caterina is dead back home. He can never have the relationship with her that he has here. Back home, he cannot allow himself to be so open or show so much of himself to one person. Back home, he is an Assassin.
But this is not home.
Alastair is right, and while it will take Ezio a bit longer to fully and completely understand it, it's a beginning. He finally straightens, breathes out a little, and gives the faintest of a smile at the boy.
Already, he has grown so much.]
That is true. There is still much here that we do not have at home. [He pauses, considers his words.] I will remember that.
Grazie, Alastair. [It's said with sincerity, a moment where he is found vulnerable among his students. It only proves that even he is human, like them, and feels just as they do, even at the worst of times.]
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You're welcome.
[It's true that here they lack so much from home, but what they've created here, what they've been given, that balances it out, doesn't it? Maybe Alastair is reaching for balance where it doesn't exist for the comfort of it, but he's starting to think it might be true.]