A/N: Ever since I finished the Jack the Ripper DLC I've been wanting to write something based after it, when Evie and Jacob return to India. Can I just say that Jacob's face at the end of the DLC just killed me? That's about all I have to say. Please enjoy and as always these characters are not mine.
After Asunder
Her lips are set in a cold line, the same ice spread across her face, devoid of emotion. She stares down at the body, limp and cold, at her feet. Blood spreads from the corpse, mutilated by her own hand. Throat slashed. Multiple stab wounds to the abdomen. Large gashes across the chest and back. Bones broken, sticking out from the flesh at odd angles. A revenge killing. A cold-blooded murder, served colder for the coldest murder London had ever seen.
She kneels by the corpse that only moments before rasped out words. That only moments before choked on the blood clogging it's throat, filling its lungs. Now, it lay still and cold, much like the expression on her face. Though as she glares down upon it, her lips twitch. The faintest of smirks, impassive though hiding a world of emotions. Her gloved right hand doesn't even reach for the handkerchief within her breast pocket. This one does not deserve the honor in that practice.
She rises and steps over the body only to pause. A strange urge settles in her gut, causing her to glance back at the gore. She hooks her hands into the fabric of his robes and heaves. The body slides across the ground, blood smearing on the stone. She drags it into the cell and unceremoniously drops it to the ground, her eyes flickering to the slumped form in the corner. She steps and then stops, her eyes drawn the white hood over the face of the murderer.
Wide dispassionate eyes stare back at her through the eye slits. They are dark and unseeing, fixed at a point beyond her. When she knew him he was a child, a round faced child that spoke little. Now, he is the most infamous killer to have roamed the streets of Whitechapel. She crouches near to the body and puts her hand to the hood, as if to pull it off. She pauses for only a moment before ripping it away.
The head jerks with the movement, skull snapping back against the stone basement of Lambeth Asylum as she jerks away. Those eyes didn't look familiar because she knew him as a boy, those eyes are hauntingly familiar because they belong to herself.
The shock clears.
Evie Frye jerks forward, a scream tearing from her throat. She scrambles backwards, whimpering gasps exiting her lips. "No-!" she yelps, struggling against the hands that sudden latch onto her. Her back arches against the wall as she slams back against it in desperate attempt to get away from her attacker. "You will not make a monster of me!" she cries and lashes out.
Her attempt is caught by a skilled hand and the voice finally breaks through to her. Her vision clears and she is looking into the worried eyes of her fiance Henry Green. Her lips form his name, though no sound comes out as he draws her forward, holding her tight. Her hands clutch at his shirt, her frame shaking against him.
"It was a dream, Evie," he murmurs, his accented tone soothing her shivers. She leans back and he brushes her hair behind her ear, looking into her eyes, his own gentle.
She swallows and nods at him. She doesn't trust her voice as he leans his head against hers, hand still gently cupping her face. She moves closer to him, nestling her head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. "Oh Henry," she whispers after too long in silence. She doesn't know how to finish her thought and luckily, Henry doesn't ask her to.
She feels the pressure of his lips against her hair as he hums her name, left arm draped about her, fingers absently rubbing her shoulder. "It was the same dream?" he guesses and she nods against him. He turns towards her, so he can see her eyes. "Tell me, Evie," he requested, "why do you believe you have this dream?"
Evie sighs. The answer is obvious. She is terrified; she is haunted; she cannot sleep for fear of what awaits her in her dreamland. Jack ruled Whitechapel with fear, and she briefly followed suit, using what she had learned from her brothers in India. She has not touched a fear device since her return with Jacob. "Fear," she replies softly.
Henry rubs her back gently. "Fear of becoming the monster Jack was?" He questions. She stills beneath his palm and gives a slow nod. He tilts her head up and their eyes meet. His brown eyes are soft, kind and ultimately nothing she deserves. He brushes a stray hair from her face. "You are not a monster, Evie," he says with a certainty she wishes she has.
She lays her head at his shoulder and breathes a soft sigh. Outside, the sun is slowly rising, sending rays of light through the window and across the ground. She'll have to get up soon, leave the safety of Henry's arms and back into the heat of India, back to reality. She sighs into his chest before slinging her legs over the bed and walking into the other room, changing into her Brotherhood robes. She ignores Henry's concerned look as she walks out of the room and down the hall of the large clay manor house.
When she arrives in the lower level, she spots Jacob out back and she walks out to join him, making sure to keep to his right where he can see her. She leans her hands against the railing beside him and he greets her cheerily, glancing towards her with his good right eye. The left is milky white, terribly scratched. She almost cringes though holds it in. She focuses on the memory of his berrade about it from the other day. Something about how intimidating he'll look with an eye patch. "Morning," she says as Henry walks down the stairs.
Jacob turns to glance at the other assassin and he grins cheekily. "Mornin' Greenie!" He grins. "'Bout time the two of you rolled out of bed." He throws in a charismatic wink, causing Henry to pause, as though going over what Jacob could possibly be alluding to.
"How is the eye, Mr. Frye?" questions Henry, walking out to join them.
Jacob's remaining eye lights up with mischief as he turns to lean his elbows against the railing. "Well, Greenie," he says, "I imagine it would feel a great bit better if it were actually in my head."
Henry blinks, thrown off. Then, "I am inclined to agree, Mr. Frye."
Jacob's head leans back slightly in a chuckle, throwing a wide grin Henry's way and Evie finds it within herself to smile. A year, she would have rolled her eyes, though now she's simply happy there is a sprinkle of normalcy in the chaos. As she watches the banter between Jacob and Henry continue, Evie finally feels as though she can move on from the Autumn of Terror. As long as she has her brother and Jayadeep Mir.