"I killed them all."

"I know," Alessandro said.

Giacinto laughed, raw and cold. "It gets easier, you know?"

Alessandro looked down at Giacinto. Something was very, very wrong. With every glance, every word from the other, he felt a chill shaking his insides, like a ghost passing through him.

"I didn't even think about it. I just ... did it." There was something uncertain in his voice, as if he had forgotten. "... it was so easy."

Alessandro's eyes flickered down to the dark bruises on his side. "Doesn't look easy."

"Oh, they tried. They were better than the others. Still, pathetic." Giacinto twisted the knife in his fingers, arm still keeping Alessandro against the wall.

Alessandro eyed the glinting blade. The others? Piero hadn't been a fight at all. The first assassin, back in Venice? No, Giacinto had said he had been poisoned and died on the chase.

"I killed them," Giacinto said, tasting the words.

Alessandro could only taste the burn of the alcohol, mingled with iron blood in his breath. "Giacinto..."

The arm pressed harder against his chest, squeezing Alessandro's breath out of him. A tremble ran through him, so light it took him several moments to realize it wasn't him. Giacinto had started shaking. Alessandro's eyes widened. "Giacinto."

Giacinto turned his head away, jaw clenched shut. The trembling grew harder, running through the small man like an earthquake. The blade tumbled from his fingers, a loud clang startling Alessandro. 

"Giacinto. Look at me."

The Greek sucked in a ragged breath. His eyes were wide, racing around the room. "I killed them. I killed them. I killed --"

"Giacinto!"

The Greek flung his head around so fast Alessandro was afraid he'd snap his own neck. His tongue darted out to catch the blood still dripping from his lip. The colour fled his face, a dead grey seeping under the rich brown. His eyes were gaping and empty, staring right through Alessandro. Cold seeped into his stomach, rising and turning dark as it flooded his mind. What was going on?

"I killed them." Giacinto's eyes flashed with realization. The next second, his knees gave out under him. 

Alessandro caught him. The man was shaking like a leave. Giacinto's hands clutched desperately at Alessandro, trying to keep himself upright. As if his own body was battling itself, caught between terror and madness.

"What have I done?" Giacinto whispered.

"What you had to," Alessandro said. He couldn't believe it. Was he accepting murder, just like that? He could recall the anger seething in him, the betrayal when Piero had slumped to the floor. But it was so far away, he couldn't grasp it if he tried. 

"I've killed them, killed them, I've -- dead, they're dead. I killed ... no, I had to. Could've run, no, dead. Dead, killed, I--"

"Giacinto!" Alessandro called out. He needed to snap out of it. Whatever had gotten into the Greek, it was devouring him from the inside out. Fast.

"They're dead. I've killed, I'm a murderer. A murderer, I've--" Giacinto did no longer breathe, just rapidly pressing out incoherent rambles. His head lolled forward.

"Giacinto! Look at me."

Giacinto's eyes kept racing away from him, jumping through the room.

"Giacinto." Alessandro wasn't even sure if the Greek heard him or if he had slipped too far into a mad world. Trapped in a cyclone of bloody letters ripping at his mind until everything that fell from his lips was no longer resembling words. Alessandro felt something terrified claw at the inside of his chest. "Giacinto, look at me!"

Slowly, the green eyes staggered around, past Alessandro, back again, until they somehow found his gaze. 

Giacinto blinked. "What have I done?" His voice was hoarse.

"You saved Laelia."

Giacinto shook his head weakly. "What have I become?"

"My friend." Alessandro forced his voice to stay calm, to not allow the tight knot in his chest to speak. He needed Giacinto to calm down.

"No no no... no ... I'm what he wants."

"What who wants?" Alessandro's eyebrows furrowed. He had been thrown into a labyrinth, blind, chased by something he could only hear and his only guide were the odd rambles coming from Giacinto.

"He ... he gave me the knife. He saw it... saw me. He knows..."

"What knife --" Alessandro stopped himself. It didn't matter now and it certainly didn't help. 

A thousand questions burned the tip of Alessandro's tongue. He forced himself to swallow them down. This was not the time. Giacinto looked as if the wrong word would either shatter him or have the river run red with blood. "Giacinto."

His eyes had drifted away again on the tide of his words, but his hands tightened on Alessandro's shirt at the name, as if he vaguely recognized it.

"I killed them ...  I killed him ... and him ... but not him ..." The Greek swayed. His eyes fluttered close.

Alessandro was starting to panic. He had no idea how to bring Giacinto back to him. No, he needed to stay calm. Alessandro Steno was always calm.

Suddenly, Giacinto gasped. "Oh god." His eyes flew open again. "Oh god, I killed them! Alessandro, what have I done. Oh god, oh god, oh god." He started shaking again, gasping for air like a man at sea, fighting the waves that kept crashing over his head, each time whirling him deeper into a cold, raging dark.

"Giacinto!" 

The Greek swayed forward against Alessandro, skin burning hot even through Alessandro's shirt. His breathing came fast and shallow. "Oh god. Oh god. Forgive me --"

"Giacinto!" Alessandro grabbed his face with both hands, tilting it back up. "Look at me. Just look at me. Only me."

It took an eternity for Giacinto to wrestle his gaze up at Alessandro. There was pure terror in his eyes.

Alessandro couldn't say he had liked the man very much for most of the time they had spent together. They had clashed like every breath they took was a declaration of war. 

He didn't know when it had changed. It had sneaked up on him like one of Giacinto's terrible jokes. Actually, they were funny. But terribly inappropriate and it would snow in summer before Alessandro would ever say that out loud. He was still suspicious, Giacinto gave him every reason to. Now, more than ever. But he wanted to trust him.

He wanted the mischief and smirk back.

Alessandro brushed his thumb over the other's cheek. "Look at me. Just like that. You're alright."

"What's happening to me?" Even Giacinto's voice trembled.

"You're panicking," Alessandro offered a small smile. "But you're doing good. Take a deep breath."

Giacinto tried, but his chest kept racing up and down. "I can't," he whispered. "Alessandro, what's--"

"You can." Alessandro's voice was firm. " Breathe with me. Can you try that?" He realized he was using his victim voice, strong but soft, gentle, understanding. He slipped into it when he talked to the shaken witnesses and broken widows. Like every breath would be a huger achievement than a war won. 

Giacinto nodded faintly.

"Good. Come on, in --" Alessandro breathed in. "And out. And in. And out."

He didn't know how long he kept talking, how long it took Giacinto to steady his breath. Funnily, Alessandro had to think how this was probably the longest they had gone without fighting. But finally, Giacinto did calm down.

Alessandro smiled down at him.

"I--" Giacinto kept opening and closing his mouth over and over again, but all the words were trapped in his eyes, wide and helpless as he stared up at Alessandro.

"You're doing great."

Somehow, that was what brought Giacinto back.

Alessandro quickly pulled back his hands still holding the other's head. His hair was soft. Not as wirey as he'd expect from the stubborn mess.

"I'm doing terrible," Giacinto managed a shaky laugh. His eyes fled from Alessandro's.

"You did," Alessandro said, "But not today."

"We need to talk." Giacinto's dropped his hands, brought them back up to attempt and fix the Alessandro's crumpled shirt, then quickly pulled them back to himself. They returned to the spot over his scar, still trying to hide it.

"Later. You need to rest."

Surprisingly, Giacinto agreed. 

Just when Alessandro was turning to leave, taking the half finished bottle with him (Giacinto had been oddly obedient, handing it over with just a small grumble) the other called him back.

Giacinto was looking at the the small glass vial in his hand. Laelia's tincture. His eyebrows furrowed. "Shit, I ... I need to talk to her."

"Tomorrow. Get some sleep."

"No, I hurt her! I snapped, I didn't mean to--"

"Giacinto. She'll understand."

"Sure?" Giacinto looked uncertain.

It was an odd look on him. "I'm sure." He left the room, only to turn back again. "She'll be more mad if you disobey her doctor's orders and run around like this."

---

Lorenzo was waiting for him in the salon, playing with his rings. His eyes snapped up when he heard the heavy echo of Alessandro's boots. "Inspector!"

Alessandro ran a hand over his face. He was tired. "He's fine. I assume he's sleeping now."

Lorenzo sighed with relief. "He had me worried for a moment. What's gotten into him?"

Alessandro wasn't so sure himself. "Where's Laelia?"

Lorenzo looked down. "Ran to her room. It ... she's not used to all of this. Cinto acting like that..."

Alessandro nodded. The poor girl, as if everything with  Antonio wasn't enough. She was so strong.  

"What about you?" Lorenzo suddenly asked.

"What about me?"

"Are you alright?"

"Of course," Alessandro said.

Lorenzo frowned as if he didn't believe a single word. Alessandro was grateful he didn't ask further. That was a conversation Alessandro still needed to have with himself.

"And you? How are you doing?" Alessandro asked, sitting in the armchair opposite to Lorenzo. "You said you didn't want to stay home?"

The other looked out the window for a moment before he turned back to Alessandro. "I'm good. I've been better, but..." He shrugged. "I'd rather not talk about it right now."

Alessandro nodded. "If you ever feel like you need to talk..."

Lorenzo grinned mischievously. "And if I feel like something other than talking?"

Alessandro rolled his eyes. He had worded it like that on purpose. It always worked, everyone had their little clues. It'd snap them out of their gloom. 

They kept chatting about the most random, mundane, wonderfully unimportant things until the sun was low and basked the marble floor in deep gold. Alessandro liked talking to him. He was educated, but laid back, laughing a lot. 

Lorenzo stretched, the wide shirt riding up to offer a glimpse at a toned stomach. He winked. "I'll get going. If I forget my cloak here, will you come bring it?"

Alessandro shook his head at the innocent smile. "Where are you going? Wouldn't it be safer to stay here than some inn?"

"If you want to get me to stay the night, you'll have to try a bit harder, Inspector."

"No, I," Alessandro cleared his throat. "I didn't mean that. I'm not --"

Lorenzo waved it off. "Joking. My mother's family has a villa here."

Alessandro walked Lorenzo to the door. The man was telling a joke he had picked up on the travel here, musing about the punchline he had forgotten. It didn't make much sense, but Alessandro was only half listening anyways.

He should tell him. That they had poisoned him. Lorenzo was a good man, he'd helped them, he deserved to know. And maybe that'd be one thing less Alessandro would loose sleep over.

Lorenzo stopped at the end of the steps, outside the villa. The low sun warmed his smile even more. "Good evening, inspector. Take care of the two, will you?"

Alessandro nodded. "Wait, I -- " He'd just need to say it. Once it was out, he couldn't take it back. It'd take just a second. "You didn't pass out drunk."

"What?"

Alessandro steeled himself. "We put something in your drink. I know this is inexcusable, but I hope you'll accept my apology. It was wrong. We shouldn't have done this, you out of all people--"

"It's fine."

"What?" Alessandro frowned. He wasn't hearing right. Lorenzo was kind, but there was no way he'd let that go.

"It's fine. Well, it kind of isn't and I'd have preferred it if you'd just told me, but hey. Humans make mistakes. No one got hurt."

This man was impossible. "You could've."

"But I didn't, thanks to you," Lorenzo said. "The waitress told me you asked her to make sure I'd be fine," he added at Alessandro's questioning look.

"It was the least I could do," Alessandro said. He shifted on his feet. He wasn't used to apologizing and he didn't like it.

"Well, there you go. Also, I bet you're beating yourself up over this more than I'll even think about it. You did what you thought was best."

"Still, this is no excuse."

"You are terribly stubborn. How about this, I'll come tomorrow and you tell me what in baby Jesus' name is going on here and it's forgotten. Deal?"

"Deal."

I hope you don't mind there was less hard action in this chapter, no major reveals and achievements ... This was intended to be shorter, but this is a huge milestone for Gio, as well as his and Alessandro's relationship. What do you think, was it too much on the emotions or true to the characters?

Lorenzo joining team Venice! And Laelia's about to get an important letter from someone ...

As always, thank you so much for reading! I'm getting so exited over the things about to happen from now on and your support is what pushes me to write even when University is being an evil little thing.

Have an amazing evening, 

Avis.