By: michi-mercer
A/N: Because there aren't enough stories about these two suffering.
I do not own the characters. Ubisoft created them, Ubisoft owns them.
Two men lay on the dirt.
Two injured men, fighting for their lives.
An imperfect British man, and a petulant Native American half-breed warrior. Father and son, fighting each other. Why? Because of their role in life.
A Templar Grandmaster. And a Master Assassin. Enemies 'til death, neither of them showing remorse, nor the offer of parley and quarter. Fighting in a secret war for thousands of years to come, a never-ending war.
The Master Assassin raised his pounding head to gaze at his father and enemy. "Surrender, and I will spare you." He said in a gruff voice, struggling to stand upright on wobbly legs.
The Grandmaster smirked at his wounded son, "Brave words from a man about to die."
"You fare no better," he shot back through gritted teeth, engaging his hidden blade - an Assassin's most favoured weapon - and advanced towards his fallen enemy.
"Ah," The Grandmaster hummed, "... but I am not alone." He told him in a tone that mocked the Master Assassin.
With a great sense of dread, the Master Assassin spun around - completely ignoring the heavy pounding in his head and the continous throbbing of his wounds - to see two of the fort's guards rushing towards the Grandmaster - who was slowly pulling himself to his feet - stopping just a few metres behind the Master Assassin. The Grandmaster held up a restraining hand, the only thing keeping the men from showering the Master Assassin with bullets from their raised muskets.
"I should have known by now," the Master Assassin muttered in a quiet voice, catching the attention of his enemy. "This is a mistake... I am a mistake."
The Grandmaster cocked his head, A mistake? "Would you care to elaborate?" He asked, eyebrow raised in a demanding manner.
The Master Assassin blinked once and let a sigh escape his cut and bruised lips, "I realized this long ago. Since the day I was born, my path in life has already been made for me. I was to lose my mother, my village, my friend, my mentor, everything I held dear to me... gone." His shoulders dropped and his head lowered, "And my own father? My enemy... An enemy that has to disappear. Whether be it by someone else's hand, my own, or by forces beyond my control. I often wonder how long my suffering will last. Months? Years? Decades? I do not know..."
The Grandmaster softened his hard gaze, still keeping his restraining hand held up.
"But I do know this..." he added a few seconds later, "That my whole existence was and forever will be a mistake." Then, the Master Assassin snapped his head up and stared at his father with red-rimmed eyes and tear-ridden cheeks.
"It is all your fault!" He shouted, pointing a finger at his enemy. "Meeting my mother was a mistake! Loving my mother was a mistake! Conceiving me was a mistake! Giving birth and raising me was a mistake, that caused my mother's eventual demise! I am nothing but a tool to correct your sins!" The Master Assassin threw his hands up in the air in an exasperated manner, then paced back and forth.
"I was not meant to know love. I was not meant to know kindness. And I wasn't meant to be here. But you already knew that, didn't you?" He asked his trembling father. "You knew that someone will send you a tool, no... a slave to carry and fix your sins."
"...Son," he breathed.
"For once in my life, I want to know what it feels like to have a normal life. A life that does not involve me having to fight for the same people who destroy our villages. A life with my Ista and Raké:ni... a family worth living for." He stopped his pacing and used his right hand to wipe an errand tear away, choking back a sob. "Maybe I am selfish... For wanting more than what I deserve. Yet, I...I..." But stopped once more as he let himself sink to ground, kneeling in front of his enemy. His head bowe, yet the ground beneath him getting wet with tears.
"Connor... I-" But as he moved towards his son, he lowered his hand and the guards' fired.
The Master Assassin - Connor, had no time to react. Two bullets were fired. One striking him between his ribs, and the other grazing his neck. The two fort guards celebrating their victory over the Master Assassin.
"No!" He shouted, his heart shattering into a million pieces as he watched his son fall to the ground in a pool of blood.
With a blast of cannonfire, the guards spun and were no more.
But all the Grandmaster-no... all Haytham Kenway could do was hold his son in his arms, cradling his dying son close to his chest.
"Son," he choked, lowering his son's hood and running a shaking hand across his son's hair. "Connor, hold on." Then tore a strip of cloth from his robe to create a makeshift bandage.
Connor looked at his father with unfocused eyes that were glazed with evident pain. "N-No... u-u-use..." he managed to say, blood trickling from his parted lips.
He raised his own trembling hand to his Haytham's hand, pushing away the shaking hands from his wound.
"No, Connor." His father pressed, "I will save you." He told him.
Connor blinked once, then twice, curling his lips into a smile. "Huh... I al-always tho-thought... I... would d-d..ie... alone..." He whispered in a tight voice, his eyes dangerously fluttering to a close.
"You can't die..." Haytham sobbed, tears threatening to flow. "Not now..."
His son smiled at him sadly, "Y-You... can't s-stop... this. You... ha..ve... to let m-me... go." He told him.
But the elder Kenway wasn't listening. He needed to stay alive. He wanted a family. A family only his father can provide.
"Connor, please... let me help you." Haytham pleaded, applying pressure on his son's gravest wound.
Connor was already drowsily blinking his eyes, his face grimacing in pain. But nevertheless, he gave a weak smile for his father.
"Stay alive, Connor. You can pull through this." Haytham pressed. "I know you can." He whispers.
But Connor was smiling at him, hand touching his father's cheek like a child would do.
"K... Konnorónhkhwa... Raké:ni..." Then his body went limp in his arms, his hand falling to the side.
The moment his son went limp, Haytham Kenway froze. "No...no...no...no...no..." he said, " Oh God, no. Don't take him away, please... Please..." Clutching his son closer to his chest.
But then looked down and saw that Connor's eyes were closed and he was smiling, his face relaxed and peaceful. As if his son was only sleeping in his father's embrace, relieved to be back in his parent's arms.
"I love you, too." He whispered, burying his head into his son's hair. "I love you too, my son." Pulling him close.
I hope you know that... Wherever you are...
A/N: Was it good? Was it bad? Feel free to review. There aren't just enough stories about these two. I will be posting another one, so be on high alert if you want to read more AC stories from me.