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Nico opened the door as shouting came from the outside.

"Drab! Drab! Drabengro! Drabarni!" Luca shouted, all but falling inside as he went to kick the door again, a body in his arms. The apothecary looked at the Romani boy standing there with a bloody body in his arms for a moment before hurrying to the back, shouting, "Maria, hilfe!"

"Was ist los?" The woman flew down the stairs, her hair pulled into a hasty tail as Luca moved inside the apothecary, Nico sweeping clean the table in the back. "Dieser Junge..."

"He was stabbed." Luca set him down on the table and moved back out of the way. "Stabbed in the chest."

"Luca, move out into the front. Go, now, we need this place clean! Keep people back on the outside while we work!" Nico barked. The boy nodded and hurried out. "This is going to be difficult. Mierda..."

The apothecary looked at his wife before setting to work.




"Serenity is here!" Amir had yelled to them and taken off. By the time the others in the room had looked, Jameel had gone as well, looking for the Sparrow. That...b***h! He continued to prowl as he made his way through the city. They couldn't have gone far. It was impossible. The rain must've hampered them as much as him.

I cannot lose him! I refuse! Not when he's so close, I can feel him! Jameel flinched as something zipped by his ear. An arrow? No, too fast, too small! The bullet pinged off the corner of a chimney in front of him, taking a chunk from it. He broke into a run. The Red Owl flinched as another round flew by him, dodging to the left and right, hiding behind towers and chimneys.

He dropped into an alley, staggering and pressing himself against the nearest doorway, watching as the Crows leaped by overhead. The Master Assassin moved out into the streets, only to be jostled and forced to snag the running, hooded figure.

"Finally! Amir, where is he?" He frowned as he saw the Coal Tit's expression. "Amir, where's Lex?"

"Maria and Nico's. Go there. It's a hideout." Jameel opened his mouth, but was shoved in the direction of the apothecary. "A Rom boy will be at the front! Go!" Amir then darted off as if he was being chased by a massive army. The Red Owl did the same. Bullets began to clip at his heels again as he ran. Damn all their eyes! Damn their Vixen! Damn them all! A bomb arrow screamed past his head and blew up a chunk of wall next to him. The rain did nothing to dampen the debris coming down around him.

Jameel dashed around the next corner he came to and through several alleys, managing to lose them after turning another corner. Leaning against the wall, he tried to catch his breath, but found the rain was beginning to slacken. Shoving onward, he reached the hideout and shoved his way inside, shutting the door behind him.

"Where is he?" he demanded, only to find the only person there was a young boy. "Where is the apothecary? Where is my Sparrow?"

"Your what?" Luca moved back as the tall man advanced on him, only for the Assassin to halt as the door opened to the other room. Maria looked at the Red Owl.

"You've come for the boy? You'll have to wait. He's injured badly. Luca, more water and bandages, please, and needle and thread. Quickly!" The Romani boy shot off. Jameel caught a glimpse inside the room before the door was shut again. He ran to the entrance of the little shop and vomited onto the cobbles.



Jameel started as a hand pressed his shoulder, hidden blade springing free of its sheath.

"La, la, la!" Nico held up his hands, breathing quickly, eyes wide, having jumped back from the blade. "Sadiq. Sadiq." Jameel blinked at hearing the Arabic coming from the little Spaniard, but then remembered the Moors.

"Btihk l-'arabi?"

Nico grinned. "Solo un poquito. Una palabra aqui, una palabra alli. Y usted habla español, señor." He spread his arms. "Me siento honrado." His face grew serious as he lowered his arms, returning to Italian. "Your friend was hurt badly, signore. Very badly. He is also very lucky. I'm not sure what saint you prayed to for that, but you might give them an offering."

"I didn't pray."

"You might start making ablutions then, if you don't want to thank fickle Lady Fortuna that the blade missed his heart." He held his finger and thumb together as close as he could without having them touch. "By that much." Jameel felt a lump of fear growing in his throat. "We'll have to watch him a few days, perhaps longer."

"Will he live?"

"I cannot say. There is a risk of infection, as with any time a person is cut open."

"He has to live."

"That's up to time and him, not me, though you can help. Go sit with him." Nico stepped back and leaned against the wall. "Oh, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't threaten Luca again."

"I made no threats." Jameel stood. The little Spaniard looked him up and down and waved his hand at him, laughing. "What?"

"If a man said to call the brute squad and you came and said you were on the brute squad, signore, that same man would respond that you are the brute squad." Shaking his head, he went upstairs. Jameel shook his head and went into the back room.

When he saw the Journeyman lying on the table, his first thought was that he was well and truly dead this time. His body was a bloodless pale, his chest unmoving. He sprang closer, all but knocking over the table in his haste. No, there, there it was. He was breathing. He was at least breathing.

The Red Owl limped outside and took the position of the sun before taking stock of his own wounds. Someone had bandaged a gash in his leg--how had he not felt that or awoken from it?--and bruises decorated his body. Shedding his shoes and rolling back his sleeves and pants, lowering his hood, he found a bowl of clean water and washed his face and neck, arms and legs, feet and hands. Then turned to the east.



Venice, day unknown, 1487

What is the scope of failure should a loved one lie dying in a little apothecary in Venice? This cannot be the end. It cannot. But he lies there so still, no matter what I ask of God. I cannot be sure if he'll live.

Give me some sign. Some sign that you'll live, little bird. That's all I want...

The rest of the writing was cut off from his sight by Jameel's body. The Sparrow looked at him for a long moment, trying to get his bleary vision to focus. Reaching out, he ran a hand through his hair.

"Boomah." Jameel lifted his head, looking at the boy who lay flush-faced before him. He reached over, holding his face between his hands. Heat coursed up his palms. "I dunn feel good."

"What the hell, Amir?" interrupted whatever Jameel was going to say. Desmond's voice. Desmond. Jameel clenched his fists, jaw working silently before he pressed a finger to the younger man's lips and went to the front of the room. "You had to drag us all over here?" Desmond stood with his arms folded in front of Amir, Ezio to one side, speaking with Maria.

"Eaglet." Desmond jerked his head around at the low voice. The Red Owl fixed him in place with his stare. "There's hay behind the building here for you to ******** yourself in, if that's what you so desire, but should you not, I suggest you sit down and shut your mouth before I permanently shut it for you!" The man dropped to a sit. "Does anyone else have any unnecessary noise to make?" His eyes raked the gathered Assassins and their allies before he turned on his heel and return to the room he'd exited.

"So that's what an Arab is like," Ezio muttered and was rewarded with a swift kick in the shin from Amir. "Ay! Merda, ragazzo!"

The fever kept up its unbroken heat for several days so that Jameel paced the entire house and the street around it when it was safe enough, the crowds thick enough, for the little shop was truly a booming business. The little family was actually helped in attracting customers, Jameel noticed one day, by a little owl that danced at the front window.

He was there by no chains or jesses that he could see, and it didn't seem either Nico or Maria had taught him the little trick. The owl hopped about and hooted quite merrily all on his own and when it wasn't it had taken to seating itself on his leg. Jameel, when not with Lex, took up watch at the front door, scanning every person who came to collect their medicines for signs of Templar affiliation.

When he took up the watch at night as well, Maria finally said, "All right, Eulchen, genug. Ladron can take your turn at watch. He's fresher than you in any case." Jameel looked at the woman and pointed to the small owl that was eating a little rat who'd haplessly come into the shop. "Yes, Ladron can do your job for tonight. Go and get some rest with your Alessio. Go on, off with you. Shoo."

The tall man shook his head, but complied, stretching out his stiff limbs and returning to where Lex lay huddled beneath several blankets, which Nico had piled on during the night and taken off during the day several times now. The Master Assassin scrubbed down his legs and arms once more, splashing his face before crawling under the mound of covers and wrapping the shivering young man in his arms.

"You remember Damas?" A nod followed by a groan. Jameel reached down, taking the cup from the chair it was set on and letting the Sparrow have a drink. "We were both sweating, but it was so cold. The poisoned heated us so that I thought I was going to drip fat like shawarma." A weak laugh came from his companion.

"Iron Man."

"What?"

"Iron Man," Lex whispered. "He's a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. He invites the other Avengers for shawarma, doesn't even know what it is. Just happy to be alive." Jameel chuckled, kissing his cheek.

"As you are, I assume, or you wouldn't be talking about something I don't understand."

"You'll know it soon enough. Give it a few hundred years."

"I think the fever's borrowed your tongue, my sweet Sparrow." Jameel reached to where Lex's hands were pressed to his chest, twining his fingers with one, his other arm slipping beneath Lex's head. He kissed his cheek again before whispering in his ear, "Adhhib il-ba's, Rabbi l-nnas washfi anta--"

"--al-Shaafi laa shifaa ailla," Lex panted, struggling to swallow before continuing, "shifaa uka shifaa an laa yughaadir saqaman."

"Amen, 'usfur." Lips pressed over his. "'As'alullaahal-'Adheema Raabal-'Arshil-'Adheemi 'an yashfiyaka."

"Say that seven times fast." Another kiss, longer this time. "Shukran."

"Afwan, habibi. Go to sleep now." Jameel settled himself onto his back, stroking the other's head as he let his own eyes close to get a little sleep.



"So, how much of this do I put into the bowl?" Lex asked, holding up the herbs. Maria looked over at her student, going toward him. The young man flinched back from her. She sighed. It had been two months since he'd come to them. He still battled the infection and he still flinched at the approach of a woman.

"No, Spaetzlein," she said gently, "you don't put any of that in unless you want our poor patient to have an erection."

"He'd be a happy man then." Lex grinned. Maria sighed softly and returned his grin with a smile. She reached and took the herbs from his trembling fingers, replacing them with another.

"You see the leaves? How they're different?" He nodded. "Good. Now--" The two looked up as Nico threw open the door. "Nico?"

"Puta la madre! Hijo de mil putas! Pinche pito de pitufo!" The door to the back room was slammed shut. Maria looked at Lex before hurrying into the room.

"Was ist los, mein Ehemann?"

"Esta vida es un asco! Eso es lo que es!" The voices grew quieter. Lex frowned, beginning to pace outside the door, trying to hear what all was going on inside. He sighed and went to the door, opening it a crack, enough to hear.

"Maria, por favor!"

"Shhh, mein kleines. Ein paar Kuesse werden da helfen."

"Ahora?"

"Jetzt." Lex froze as Nico groaned, the Spaniard's hand gripping the table. Bandages lay in a loose pile to one side of Nico's leg. "Ich liebe dich, mein Schatz." Lips pressed to Nico's chest, less flat than before, the other hand on the other side, squeezing lightly.

"Te amo tambien, mi tesoro," Nico whispered, eyes opening halfway. The Spaniard startled as Lex was spotted, freezing. Maria looked up at feeling the jolt that passed through her companion, turning to see the Sparrow standing there, struck dumb.

"Alessio, there is a reason most people knock on closed doors." Lex felt his face heat up further than it was before, his eyes flicking between the two women before he slid back a step and shut the door.