Hello once more everyone,

Sorry about my last story, again I wanted to continue it but I felt with how long it was on hiatus due to school and such it wouldn't have been a good idea. So I hoped that the Epilogue wrapped up everything, and if anyone is upset with the ending just drop me a message and I'll explain my methods. I wanted to keep close to the lore, so if you know what the lore is then you should have seen this kind of coming lol

As for this story, lemme make this clear since I got a couple of flames and there was some confusion...THIS IS NOT A ROMANCE. I don't want a single review talking about how it's an Ezio/OC or Ezio wouldn't go out with her, or even anything with Malik. Actually READ the story before you review, I don't mind criticism, I can take it well and might even openly discuss with you your critique that way I may improve my writing. But actually READ the story before you submit critique, all I ask.

I'll clear this up too: Desmond and Altair are brothers. Any other family lines shall be explained. And finally, yes, this is a reboot of 'Save Me'. Now finally, enjoy!

I hate airports, Isobel grumpily thought as she stayed in her seat while the other patrons leaped to their feet the moment the seat belt sign was removed and hurriedly reached for their luggage in the overhead compartments. It didn't help that Isobel hated people in general as well – some were just so annoying. Earlier when she had to get through airport security there were two people in front of her: a man who had almost every electronic possible in his bag that he had to take out of his bag, and then a woman who decided to wear every piece of jewelry she ever owned. Isobel had to pack up her entire home and move, and yet she seemed to be the only one that was able to pack a proper carry on, just a small back pack, and not wear any metal. What also annoyed her, was the fact that these people weren't even that important – if they were, they'd be flying some private jet or a non-commercial plane. They were more than likely flying economy, just like her, nobodies.

Once the rushes of people were no longer blocking the aisle, Isobel grabbed her back, it was just her and a couple of older couples who thought the same as her as she grabbed her bag and shimmied out of her seat and down the aisle. She was exhausted from traveling and was ready to crash the moment she got to her new home. She was wearing a baseball cap, her hood up and covering the cap as she made her way through the airport, hands shoved in her pockets as she walked through the airport – weaving around people who were simply strolling through the airport. She had only seen her Uncle once, when she was seven, and she barely remembered what he looked like, it wasn't like he ever came to visit her and her dad. She managed to get to baggage claim without killing anyone, though she tried to use the Force a couple of times and waited for her bags. People quickly stood in front of her (either not caring that she was there or not seeing her, something told her the former rather than the latter). She managed to politely move around, what looked like, a mother and snatch her duffle bag, and seeing her struggle to decide how to get her back and hold her infant, Isobel snatched up her suitcase as well and slid the handle out.

"Thank you," she smiled as she then gestured to another, "That pink one is mine to, could you..?"

"Of course," Isobel said, not minding as she pulled the suit case out.

A male voice came out of nowhere, "there you are, sorry I'm late." The two kissed briefly and then he turned to Isobel who probably looked like she was trying to take their suitcase.

"This nice young lady was just helping me, got my hands full," the baby cooed against his mother's chest and Isobel forced a smile as she pulled the handle up.

"Oh, thank you," he said smiling and taking both suitcases, "have a good one."

"You too," Isobel responded as she grabbed her duffle again and looked around for anyone that looked familiar or held a sign – nothing. Frowning, she checked her phone to be certain he hadn't texted or called. She didn't have a smart phone, like most people her age, her dad wasn't rich and he believed in hard work. But he did occasionally spoil her. Her phone had neither and so she took a look around a second time and still didn't see anyone familiar and so she headed for the doors, believing he might be waiting outside with the car. The cold, winter air bit at her and she shivered as her breath came out in a ghostly wisp. She hoped her Uncle knew that she had no winter clothes at all except for cotton jackets. Not seeing anyone familiar there either, she quickly rushed back inside, shivering as her teeth chattered and took a seat.

She decided to try his cell phone, but it immediately went to voice mail, "Leave a message." Was all he said with his thick accent before there was a loud 'beep'. Isobel hung up, not trusting herself – she'd more than likely curse him out. She took out her ear buds and her mp3 and played her own music as she rested her elbows on her knees, occasionally clicking her phone back on to examine if there was a phone call or text, but if either occurred she'd feel the vibration. Nothing happened for hours, eventually Isobel took up two seats so she could stretch out, back against the wall and staring out the frosted windows. She wished she could just get a taxi, but she had no money on her person, she was only fourteen.

"Isobel Miles," a voice suddenly said, she took out her ear bud, she had been playing her music on a rather low setting so she could hear if someone called her name. A man approached her, someone she had never met before and she eyed him warily, "Your Uncle sends his apologies, I'm with his company. I'll be taking you home."

Scoffing, Isobel grumbled an "unbelievable" before rising, grabbing her bag and gesturing for the man to lead the way. There was a car already outside, and he opened the trunk, taking her bag for her. She had moved around to the back, but he was there in an instant, opening the door for her. She thanked him, a bit thrown off, but eased into the back nonetheless as he shut the door behind her and then got into the driver's side and pulled into traffic. Heat was blasting, which she was grateful for as she held her numb fingers to a vent as she sniffled a bit from the cold and then quickly started texting one of her father's best friends.

To: Ezio

In NYC. Uncle ddnt show.

Getting ride frm driver.

Isobel looked out the window, but had barely set her phone down before phone vibrated, signaling that she had received a text.

From: Ezio

A driver? Text or call me when you get to your Uncle's place. And then have your Uncle call me when you get home!

To: Ezio

I dnt think thats nec. Ezi.

mb he got bzy work?

From: Ezio

No excuses. Have him call me, Bella, or I will find his number. You know I have ways.

Isobel smiled as he called her 'bella'. She used to correct him when he was little, not understanding that it was a different language, but now that she was older, it sometimes made her blush. Ezio was such a flirt, even if she was jail bait for the old man. She did know as well that if she didn't have her Uncle call Ezio, Ezio would find her Uncle's number. It was weird, but Ezio had ways that she didn't understand.

To: Ezio

K fine.

Was it wrong of her that she wished Ezio had adopted her instead of her Uncle? Ezio Auditore had been for as long as she could remember; every birthday, every recorder performance, he taught her how to swim out in the lake, and was there for every Christmas. There was only one event he missed, her middle school graduation (she smiled at the memory of her father grumbling about how she technically wasn't graduating anywhere because she was going straight to high school and didn't see the point of the matter – neither did she). Isobel found out later that it was because Ezio was in the hospital, he got hurt on the job and was really bad off. She finally saw him again at the fourth of July, and he did look a lot thinner, as many do right after a hospital visit. Isobel had asked what he did for a living and how he got hurt – he had deflected but she didn't think too much of it.

"We're here, madam," said the driver, a lot sooner than she had expected. She opened the door herself, but he grabbed the door and held it wide for her to exit. She eyed him warily before climbing out and then moving towards the trunk and waiting for him to open it for her. He did, but this time he grabbed her duffle bag and shooed her away. She scowled, but nonetheless obeyed, getting out of his way as he locked the car and led the way into the apartment complex. He nodded to the receptionist who greeted them before he moved towards the elevator, he pressed the up button and then waited, both entered, and this time he used a key, turned and pressed the twelfth floor. Silence fell between them as they went straight to the top and then entered one of the nicest penthouses Isobel had ever been in.

Isobel had actually never been in a penthouse, but she felt like she was entering Bruce Wayne's penthouse when he had to have his house reconstructed. Everything was clean and shiny, it wasn't hard to pick up on that her Uncle was a neat freak. There was a kitchen area that looked as though it had never been used, a graynite bar separated the kitchen from the living room. There were leather furniture and glass tables for the décor of the living room, a large television resting against the wall directly in front of the couch. Straight across from the main door were large balcony windows that had curtains to be drawn if necessary, and then a hallway leading off to somewhere and another door, which was closed. "Thanks, um…I hope my Uncle has paid you already, I have no money on-"

"Do not worry about it, ma'am, he did insist you make yourself at home in your bedroom and that he will be home as soon as possible," the man said, and with a goodbye, he turned and left, heading down the elevator and leaving Isobel alone in the overly clean apartment.

Opening the fridge for a drink, she found it completely empty except for a couple of takeout left overs – her Uncle was definitely a bachelor, which was rather obvious. She sighed her annoyance, silently cursing her Uncle before she moved towards the large balcony glass doors out of curiosity. Her Uncle had a wonderful view of the New York skyline, though he might not have noticed it – Isobel picked up on the haze of pollution that seemed to linger above the city and slowly float into the atmosphere. She twisted her face in dislike before turning away and looking to explore the apartment. Unable to contain her curiosity, she immediately moved towards the closed door and tried to open it, but found that it was locked. She pouted in disappointment before searching for a key on the door frame and even doing so around the living room, but no key was found so she headed towards the hallway instead with one last curious glance towards the door. The hallway had four doors, all of which were closed. She reached for the first one to find this one was occupied, it was obviously her Uncle's bedroom and it was completely messy – like a bomb had gone off in his room. Raising an eyebrow, she turned to the prestine clean living room and then glanced once more towards his bedroom in complete bafflement before closing the door. She noted that he had his own bathroom, which she was happy about, because it meant she didn't have to share a bathroom. Continuing down the hallway, the next two doors showed to be a linen closet and a washroom upon inspection, and then finally the door at the very end of the hall, the door facing the hallway, was her bedroom – it looked like. The furniture was new, there was no dust on the furniture at all (and if her Uncle's room was any indication, he wasn't one for dusting, let alone cleaning) and had already been situated in the room, there was a dark blue comforter and sheets on the bed, and by the way they were tucked in they looked like they might have been her Uncle's old dorm sheets. Isobel eased herself onto the bed, dropping her duffle bag on the floor before flopping back on the bed and staring at the ceiling, her eyelids slowly grew heavier until sleep finally gripped her.

"I can't believe you forgot about her," a voice woke up Isobel from her sleep, he was speaking in a normal tone, but the annoyance was clear in his voice as he moved around his flat.

She rubbed her eyes tiredly as she heard another respond, "I didn't forget about her. I had a driver pick her up- ow! Will you stop hitting me."

"You're right, I shouldn't destroy whatever brain cells you have left," the first voice still berated the other, "you should have left work early and picked her up!"

"What would be the point of that- Malik, I'm going to break your only arm if you strike me again," warned the second voice.

The one named Malik was silent for a moment, Isobel rose from her bed and moved towards the hallway, she realized he was whispering though and as she neared she could hear him more closely, "…your niece whom you haven't seen in a long time shows up to New York on her own and you don't meet her at the airport? Altair-"

"That's something else I haven't told you about…I haven't seen her since she was five…"

"What!"

Isobel decided to make herself known as she stepped out of the hallway, her heart dropped at the sight of her Uncle – she knew very well it was her Uncle as well as he looked exactly like his father. Short, dark hair (she wondered if it curled as well when he didn't cut it short), a round face though her Uncle's face was cold and emotionless where as her father's had always been warm and happy. There build was similar as well, wide shoulders with a large chest in between, but her Uncle was muscle and large, where as her father had been lean but slouchy as well. His eyes were the large striking difference between the two, her father's had been a chocolate brown, but his were a hazel, gray color. She felt like she was being scrutinized under that gaze, and she met his gaze with a glare, one that she could only hope showed all of her anger and hatred towards him.

"Isobel," Altair said, was there a look of relief on his face, "how was the flight?"

"Flight was fine, it was the wait at the airport that was annoying," Isobel said evenly, but the ice that came from her words seemed to lower the temperature in the entire apartment as Altair shot a glare and then tried to play it off.

"I'm sorry, I got busy at work. I thought your flight landed at three," he said simply.

Isobel didn't let up though, "if only you had been the one that bought my ticket and thus received my itinerary." Sarcasm now drooled from her words, like a viper's venom that even had Malik raising both eyebrows. Altair's fist clenched though and Isobel couldn't help but look satisfied at getting under his skin.

The man closest to her cleared her throat, she assumed him to be called Malik, and he spoke up, "forgive him, it was an honest mistake." Isobel found herself glaring at him as well as he defended her Uncle, but she said nothing more on the matter, "Are you hungry? Sadly we're used not used to having a child in the house, I know our cupboards are empty. We'll go grocery shopping tomorrow."

"Water would be nice," Isobel said grumpily, she had doubted that the man could come through, but sure enough he produced a water bottle from the bag of, what smelled like, Chinese food and she eagerly took it and drank, finding that she liked Malik. "Thanks," she said, her voice sounding grudging that she had to be grateful to either of them as she greedily drank, her parched mouth happily removed itself of the cotton mouth feeling at the taste of water and Isobel forced herself not to chug the water down.

Malik smiled his approval and then started cleaning up – so he was the reason why the place was so clean, "So, Isobel, Altair's told me that you are interested in rock climbing."

Isobel was grateful that he didn't say anything about her father, many liked to apologize for her loss or say that they had hoped they were meeting on better circumstances. Malik seemed to be able to tell what topics to avoid and immediately avoided her father. Isobel stole a glance at Altair who was currently watching the exchange with a wary gaze, but when he caught Isobel's gaze he grumbled something, grabbed his work bag and then moved towards his bedroom. "Yes, I was working to free soloing," Isobel explained.

A whistle of amazement passed Malik's lips as he said, "that's very impressive for…forgive me, I didn't catch your age."

"Thirteen," Isobel stated simply.

"Ah, so you shall be starting high school in the fall," Malik stated simply, his mind immediately racing, Isobel could practically see cogs turning as he produced food from the bag and then tossed it to the side, "well we'll eventually have to check out high schools as well and find one that suits you. Altair nor I-"

"We," Isobel asked confused.

Malik paused and looked at her, "Oh…you don't know," the man's face suddenly flushed as he seemed to stammer and it was the first time Isobel had seen him look a bit awkward. Isobel had a feeling that he didn't get flustered often.

Altair returned to the room and got out bowls, "he's my boyfriend." He had said it so bluntly that Malik dead panned and scowled at Altair, who merely shrugged, "what? She'd figure it out eventually. You being in my room and all."

Isobel watched Malik flush as he sat at the bar, Altair stood while eating and Isobel decided to take a seat as Malik offered her food, but she merely shook her head, "Not hungry, thank you."

"When was the last time you ate," Altair asked, raising an eyebrow as he popped a piece broccoli into his mouth.

"When was the last time you cared," she snapped right back.

The two glared at one another and Malik tensed at the two, Altair opened his mouth, prepared to yell, Malik knew and quickly cut in. "Your Uncle tells me you speak Arabic as well," Malik said fluently and evenly.

Isobel finally tore her gaze away and responded a bit slowly, but with a surprisingly good accent, "Yes. My father taught me, he'd speak to me in Arabic all the time," he watched her word her sentence again silently and nod that she had gotten it right, obviously she hadn't spoken it much. There was a lull in the conversation where no one said anything for a bit and Isobel finally asked, "What do you to do?"

The two had been prepared for this question and had already agreed on how they would respond, "Human contractors," both said together, Altair then filled in, "a lot of boring paperwork, but occasionally we may have to go on business trips."

He merely received a glare from Isobel once more and she watched him glare right back, obviously having enough of her anger, but she spoke before he could snap at her, "may I be excused?"

Malik blinked and then saw Altair's expression and quickly said, "yes." Isobel hopped off the bar stool and moved quickly towards her bedroom, closing the door behind her and laying on her new bed, in her new room, in her new home, with a stupid new guardian. Why did you have to go? Isobel asked as she felt a wave of tears struggle to be released but she tried to hold them back to the best of her abilities.

I hope you enjoyed, as you saw this chapter was all in Isobel's perspective and I think I'll keep to it like that. So the next chapter may have a bit of insight or flashbacks of the next characters perspective, but furthering the story as well. Leave a review!