Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed. There, I said it, happy now?
A/N: The ending really tugged at my heartstrings, especially since I'd suspected Bill of being a templar. I felt bad that they'd all been through so much... Anyways, so just a little piece on Bill's thoughts after.
We'll find another way!
William Miles played the conversation over and over in his head. He visited the temple every night in his dreams, wandering aimlessly, searching for something but never finding anything. No voices, no friendly faces, just dust and the humming of machines deep within the tower. Every night he would wake in a cold sweat, the dark realization that he could never find what he was searching for washing over him like an angry tide.
Bill, Rebecca, and Shaun had kept their ears and eyes open ever since that fateful day, but after a few small earthquakes and a little volcanic activity, everything quieted down. No strange occurrences, no one acting strange, just... silence. If the angry deity that had been unleashed upon the world was up to something, they hadn't heard about it. That was almost scarier than a hostile takeover.
When this is all over... Could I... come home?
I would like nothing more.
Why had he been such a fool? Those few moments when his son reached out for comfort, he had shooed him away, pushed him back to the animus, insisted they keep working because the world might end if they didn't and he wasn't going to let that happen, no matter how angry Desmond got, no matter how many shouting matches they had to have.
If only he had known that his whole world was going to end, and leave him broken but very much alive.
He still hadn't told his wife. Desmond's mother. He hadn't the heart. He simply insisted that it was too dangerous to correspond right then, that they had enemies on their tail that could easily hack any email sent, overhear any phone conversation. While this was true, Juno had what she needed. It was all a matter of time now.
You guys need to get out of here, now!
Bill tipped his head back and downed a gulp of hard, unforgiving liquor. Maybe if he drank enough, he would forget all of this. His guilt. His pain. Everything. Maybe everything would stop.
Some days, he wished he weren't an assassin. That he didn't feel this obligation to protect mankind's free will. But he was, and he did. And because of him, Desmond was... It was all his fault. All Desmond had wanted was a normal life. It was what he chose. But between Bill and Abstergo, his choices were taken from him, and he was flung into a conflict he wanted no part of.
Don't you ever compare me to those bastards!
How different were they really? When backed into a corner, both reacted like savage animals, doing what was necessary to survive. Shoving Desmond into the animus, again and again, ever searching for the answer, for the truth, for something that would save their miserable planet.
He replayed the recordings, again and again. Watching Desmond work through the animus to solve the puzzle. Altair, Ezio, Connor, they may as well have all been the same. All leading to one conclusion, though none knew it.
Who are we who are so blessed to share our stories like this? To speak across centuries?
More like a curse. A curse that finally took its toll and claimed what it had wanted all along. Desmond's life.
"Bill! C'mon, we gotta go! We got a lead on where she might be," Rebecca called down the stairwell. Bill straightened his jacket, downed the rest of his drink, and proceeded up to join his team. It was a fruitless endeavor, he already knew, but his son had trusted them to stop her.
He'd be damned if he let Desmond down again.