Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft

Eagle's Point, Maine

They were fighting again. Haytham could hear his half-sister's shrill shrieks and his father's gusty bellows from atop the stairs. He was still in his suit from the funeral, though lacking the jacket. His eyes were red rimmed and puffy, dried tears still on his cheeks. He couldn't believe his mother was gone. He kept expecting her voice to interrupt the shouting match below and set everything to right.

"Jenny!" Edward shouted.

"Don't you Jenny me, Father! I've had it up to here! All you ever done is run away from your problems or foster them on someone else, that's why my mother left you! And now you're gonna go back out to sea and leave me to watch that brat?" Jenny yelled. Haytham pouted. He never could figure out what he did to deserve Jenny's wrath. He always tried to be nice to her and only got hostile because she was hostile to him first. He gave a firm nod, confident in his own logic.

"That brat is your brother," Edward snarled. "I don't—"

"I don't give a damn about what you want! And he's my half-brother. We only share you as a sorry excuse for a father!" Jenny spat.

Haytham frowned. He rather liked his father, sure Edward Kenway wasn't in the running for father of the year, but he did his best. As far as Haytham was concerned, he had the three basic essentials: food, shelter and clothes. So what if they weren't living the high life? Lobster fishing wasn't that most lucrative career, but it put food on the table, a roof over their heads and clothes on their back.

"You watch your tone when speaking to me young lady! I've done my best to do right by you and Haytham. I may not be the best parent, but I love you both to pieces."

"Right," Jenny's sarcastic drawl drifted it's way upstairs. "Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night."

"Where do you think you're going, young lady?" Edward shouted.

"Away from you and this shithole of a place!" Jenny retorted back.

Haytham froze when he heard his sister's footsteps leaving the parlor. She was heading towards the stairs. Swallowing, he scrambled to his feet and quickly made it to the set of hidden stairs that led to the attic. The house only had two bedrooms. One was his father's and the other was Jenny's. They had converted the attic into a room of sorts for Haytham once he was old enough. He liked it, he could see out he round window to the sea. He grasped the rope and yanked the stairs down.

His foot touched the first step when his sister came up the stairs and into the hall. "Were you eavesdropping again?" Jenny asked. Haytham gasped, turning to face his rather intimidating half-sister.

"N-No…" Haytham looked away. "O-Only a little. I… I was in my room and I heard you and Dad yelling so I… came out…" Haytham looked at his feet. "I wanted to tell you two to stop fighting… cause we just buried Mom and—" Haytham realized too late that he shouldn't've brought up his mother. Jenny grabbed him by the front of his shirt and punched him squarely in the face. He gave a muffled gasp as she hit his nose, thankfully not breaking it, though it gushed blood.

She pulled him close and whispered, dangerously soft into his ear, "Don't you ever talk about Tessa like she was my mother." Jenny then dropped him before going into her own room. With a sniffle, Haytham slowly headed towards main staircase, holding the hem of his now ruined white shirt to his bleeding nose.

He didn't get more than halfway down the stairs when he heard his father shouting and standing in front of the door. Haytham frowned at the sight of Reginal Birch, on their front porch. White roses in hand and looking all dressed up.

"I'm just here to see Jenny," Birch said, trying to get by Edward, but Edward's bulk took up most of the doorway.

"I want you to stay away from my daughter! Get lost!" Edward growled. Haytham swallowed, debating whether he should retreat and head back upstairs to his room and wait for his father to bring him some clam chowder or continue onward and get caught in the crossfire.

"She's old enough to make her own choices now, Mr. Kenway, and she's chosen me over you," Birch replied.

"She's my daughter and I—"

"Don't get a say in my life anymore, Daddy!" Jenny said. Haytham jumped, startled, looking wide-eyed and frightened at his half-sister standing there with a suitcase in hand and folded piece of paper in the other. She stalked down pass Haytham and slapped the paper into her father's chest.

"What's this?" Edward grumbled, opening the paper up and reading its contents.

"I'm legally an adult now," Jenny said, a nasty smirk on her face. "You can't tell me what to do anymore." She plucked the paper out of his hand.

"I never signed no god damn court papers!" Edward bellowed. Haytham winced. His father sure could yell, thanks to his years as a fisherman. Jenny snorted.

"You signed them when you were drunk, of course you don't remember. Now, I'm going with Reginal."

"Jenny," Edward's voice softened.

"No. I've made my choice," Jenny said and her eyes suddenly landed on Haytham. "Get your things Haytham, you're coming with me too."

"Wh-what?" Haytham gasped. He didn't want to leave Eagle's Point. He liked it here. Granted, he didn't have any real friends, being a bookworm and all, but this was his home! "I don't want to go!"

"You are not taking my son from me, Jennifer! I won't allow it!" Edward roared, grabbing his daughter's arm.

"Let go of me you bastard!" Jenny shouted, struggling against her father's grip. Haytham pressed himself against the wall, sniffling back a mess of snot, blood and new shed tears. He wanted his mother, his mother would know what to do. She would put a stop to this and they'll all sit at the table like they've always done and have clam chowder and laugh. But his mother was dead. They put her in the cold ground. She was never coming back.

Bang!

The gunshot jerked Haytham out of his stupor. He watched as his father fell. A hand going to his shoulder, eyes wide in disbelief. "Get your brother!" Birch shouted. Haytham felt his sister's grip on his arm, her forceful yank and he went stumbling after her. He watched, in a strange dream-like haze as his sister dragged them pass their bleeding father, the look of hurt and betrayal in Edward's eyes, before Jenny dragged him out the door and bundled him into Birch's car. The last image of his home Haytham remembered seeing was his father, leaning against the open doorway screaming into the night.

Thirty-six years later

Haytham E. Kenway, defense lawyer. That was what it said on the business card. There was a little logo on the left, a cross with a set of scales on its arms, with some Latin script encircling it. There was also the address to the building in Boston, his email address and phone number. Haytham watched as his father flipped it over, snorting when he noticed that it was blank. Edward handed it back to his son.

"So ya became a lawyer," Edward stated. Haytham tucked the card back into his pocket.

"Indeed. Birch paid for my schooling," Haytham said. Edward frowned, and wiped the counter of the bar. The Sea Eagle was his establishment that he had been running since retiring from lobster fishing. Haytham looked up and noted the image of his father's fishing ship, the Jackdaw.

"How nice of him," Edward snipped.

"You aren't still upset about—"

"Upset doesn't even begin to cover my emotions, boy." Edward growled as he slapped his hand onto the countertop. "Ya didn't even put up a fight!"

Haytham swallowed. He tried to forget what happened thirty-six years ago, but it was a rather scarring event in his life. His mother was gone, his sister's boyfriend had pulled a gun on his father, his father got shot and he was dragged from his home. "How could I?" Haytham said. "I was a ten-year-old boy and Birch had a gun. He could have shot me if I resisted."

"You could've bit Jenny and attempt to run for it," Edward shot back.

"I've bit Jenny before. All that ever earned me was a beating," Haytham sniffed. He still wasn't too fond of the beatings he suffered at the hands of his standoffish half-sister.

"Where is she?" Edward asked, his voice soft.

"Turkey, last I heard," Haytham replied. He sat down on an empty stool. "I'm… glad you're alright."

Edward snorted. "If ya were glad, ya would've made some effort to contact me in all this time ya've been gone."

Haytham glanced away. His father was right, he should've made an effort, but after being dragged from his home, he had only wanted to please Jenny and Birch and that meant never speaking of Edward or attempting to contact him. The long years have made it a habit. "I'm sor—"

"I don't want an apology," Edward growled. A grimace crossed his face and he rubbed his shoulder. "I wanted to continue the fishing business," Edward said softly, not looking at Haytham. "I wanted to be able to write Kenway & Son Fishing," Edward muttered.

"Dad," Haytham began. He always guessed that if he had stayed at Eagle's Point he would have inherited the fishing business and continued as a lobster fisherman, like most sons in the area did. Alas, things changed. "Dad there is a reason why I'm here," Haytham said.

Edward snorted. "Of course there's a reason. Ya would have never returned to this little hick town if there wasn't a reason. Ya probably forgot where ya came from after being dazzled by the glorious big city."

Haytham sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Had his father always been this difficult? He couldn't remember. He was still trying to grapple with the curmudgeonly old man his father had morphed into.

"While I was in Boston, I met someone," Haytham began.

"You're gay," Edward stated bluntly. Haytham blanched at the statement.

"No!" he hissed. "I'm not gay. I met a woman, Dad, a woman. She's a Native American, a member of the Mohawk tribe."

"Huh, figured ya go for some Asian or European girl," Edward said, he slung the cloth he held over his shoulder before pulling out a beer and opening it. "I'm the owner," he growled before Haytham could say anything.

"Anyway," Haytham pressed on, "her name is Ziio, and well—"

"Haytham!" the door opened and a woman followed by a sullen looking teenage boy walked in. "Ratonhnhaké:ton says he likes it here."

"Who in the bloody hell are they, Haytham?" Edward inquired with a growl as the woman and teenager walked up to the bar. "And what kind of a damn name is Radon-daygabon?"

"It's Ratonhnhaké:ton ," the boy said with a jut of his chin. Edward locked his glower with the boy's own.

Haytham sighed, running his hand down his face. He had a feeling this was going to be a terribly long day and it wasn't even eleven o'clock yet. "I've been trying to tell you, Dad," Haytham sighed, exasperated. "This is Ziio and her son, Ra-dooh-gay-do…" Haytham stumbled over the boy's name, "Connor." He finally said.

"Connor?" Edward looked at the boy with an arched brow. "He an't Irish."

"It's his middle name or so I'm told," Haytham explained.

"And why are they here?" Edward asked.

"Ziio is an eyewitness to a case I've taken on at her request. She feels there is a danger to her and Connor, so I brought them here. For the time being."

"I see." Edward looked at the woman. "She must be the woman ya were attempting to tell me about?"

"Yes," Haytham agreed with a nod.

"Never expected ya to take in another man's get though," Edward said as Connor sat down on a nearby stool. Haytham and Ziio both began to protest.

"So," Connor said, looking at Edward, "you must be my grandfather."

Edward stared, Ziio and Haytham stopped talking and Connor pulled out his phone. Haytham cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Dad, Connor is my son."

There was a melodious crash as Edward's beer hit the floor.

I've been playing too much AC lately, and the fandom has bitten and taken old. I don't know where this came from. I was just grabbed by the idea and ran with it. This is planned for a multi-chapter fic, but I have no idea where it's going. All I know is that there is a severe lack of Haytham and Connor bonding stories and, Edward and Haytham bonding stories and bonding stories about all three Kenway men. So, I'm gonna fix it. With this here AU fic! Ta-Da!

Save an author; leave a review!

-Nemo

PS: Haytham's attempt to say Ratonhnhake:ton is actual canon.