A/N: Sorry this is short, just a little something that came to mind earlier today. I apologize if it seems a bit rushed.
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.
Nothing Without You
Haytham had always thought about death; he saw so much of it. What he never thought about was what happened after death. He preferred to think that his father, Holden and Ziio had gone somewhere after death, but he had never pondered it before. Even in the last moments on earth, jagged rushes of pain coursing through him and his hand slick with his own blood, Haytham never even thought of what might happen after he closed his eyes forever.
Though, evidently, forever was quite a short time as it seemed only seconds had passed since the darkness evaded his vision and the pain dulled to a numbness that he opened his eyes. He blinked, pressing his hand to his neck and pulling it back. He'd expected to feel pain; agony rushing through him. Instead, he'd felt nothing save for a few tingles of what might have been pain. He slowly stood up, glancing down at his clothes and at his hands. He was blood free. His eyes narrowed and a frown tugged at the edges of his lips.
It was only than that he took in his surroundings. He was in a forest, remarkably similar to the one in Boston, but that couldn't be because he was quite sure that he had died. Killed by his own son. He'd known it was coming and he hadn't wanted to stop it. Despite the many times he'd wished he could, Haytham knew that after all the moments they'd spent together, he never would have been able to kill Connor; his son.
Call him soft, and perhaps he had grown soft in his old age, but the boy, no matter how infuriating, was his flesh and blood and not a day had gone by that Haytham didn't wonder what life would have been like had he and Ziio raised Connor together.
Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder and Haytham was whirling around, reaching for a weapon when he realized he had no weapons. The realization froze in his mind as his eyes found the dark eyes before him. He blinked, her lips were curved in the faintest of smiles, her hair in two perfect braids.
The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, before he could even really process that she was there, in front of him. "I'm sorry Ziio."
"I know," she said slowly, softly. She took his hand in hers, slowly sliding his glove off and dropping it to the ground. His hand slid up and cupped her cheek, her fingers on his wrist. She leaned delicately into his touch, looking up into his eyes, which were slightly tormented.
He opened his mouth to speak but she placed a finger at his lips. "Hush," she murmured, leaning up and gently kissing him. His arms slipped around her body, holding her close against him, one hand cupping the back of her neck, the other at her waist. He was afraid that if he let her go than he'd never see her again. He was afraid that when he opened his eyes it would all be a dream.
But it wasn't, when they parted, Ziio was still there and she was beautiful. He cupped her face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs across her skin. Haytham wanted to tell her about how much he had wished they would have had a chance at a life together, that he wished he hadn't lied, but the words didn't come.
However, he had a feeling that he didn't have to say anything; that she already knew.