Hello everyone! I haven't been active this year because I was not really inspired. This is a story I wrote in the end of last year, but I didn't have time to edit it. So here it is, I hope you like it! I put some Assassin's Creed Underworld references in it, so I don't recommend you to read this if you haven't read the book. Enjoy!

'Bad choice, Jacob, bad choice.'

A silhouette flitted through the eerily silent streets of London. Streetlamps illuminated him for a few seconds as he passed by. Quiet as a wraith, he climbed up the pillars to the railway tracks, albeit with a slower pace than he was used to. His exhausted muscles screamed for mercy.

His breath was shallow and jagged as he somehow made it to the top. 'Come on, Jacob, just a little longer. The train's almost here. Then Evie might be able to get some help,'

Timing his jump, he ignored his exhaustion and barely made it onto the train as it approached. He slumped into the last car of the train. The two Rooks who were chatting there jumped. They fixed their gazes at the bloody heap that made the terrible sound earlier.

"What in the blazes is that?" asked one of the Rooks, a male.

"Like I'm supposed to know!" retorted the other sarcastically, a female.

"It looks like a person, and the clothes he's wearing looks very much like…"

"Mr Frye's," finished the female Rook.

"Help…" rasped Jacob, his energy almost depleted. The Rooks hurried to their boss's side.

"Boss! What happened to you?" asked the female Rook. "What are you doing here, Charlie? Go get Miss Frye!" she addressed the other Rook.

Without another word, Charlie went up front to inform Evie of her brother's condition. Rosa, the other Rook, knelt beside Jacob.

"Dear Lord, what have you been doing, Boss?" she whispered as she went over the injuries Jacob had sustained. Every Rook knew that one of their leaders, Jacob Frye, was reckless and would always injure himself, but the cuts and wounds were never as grievous as what Rosa was looking at.

Evie and Henry rushed into the scene, Charlie in the lead. The Assassins were just discussing about their next step in freeing London. Or, it could be something more personal. Evie winced. "What have you been doing, Jacob?" she muttered. She deduced that it was probably not from a fight club, otherwise Robert Topping would come running.

Henry, as surprised as she was, immediately said, "I shall go look for Miss Florence Nightingale," before he jumped out of the train, heading for the renowned nurse's location.

Silently wishing the Indian Assassin luck, she began to instruct the Rooks. "Rosa, I believe you know where the water keg is. Can you please get me a bucket of water and some clean rags? Charlie, please help me get Jacob to his couch,"

The Rooks set about their tasks. Gently, Evie placed one of her arm under Jacob's, while Charlie did the same with Jacob's other arm. Slowly, they managed to move Jacob to his bed. Rosa was already waiting for them. Thanking the Rooks, Evie dismissed them.

"Do ask for our help if you need it, milady," said Charlie. Rosa nodded. Evie thanked them again as she watched the Rooks leave the car.

Soaking the cloth in the bucket of water Rosa had brought, she began to clean her brother's face, revealing many bruises and cuts underneath the mud and blood. She knew Jacob loved fights, Robert Topping had told her that he would visit the fight clubs whenever he had time. Jacob was still the same, he was always honing his fighting skills since his childhood, even though Evie was the superior one in that field. Evie had always outshined her brother in many ways, but Jacob sometimes proved to be the wiser one.

"Oh, Jacob, where did you go this time?" whispered Evie into Jacob's ear.

"West… min… ster…" Jacob managed to croak. So, it was not a fight club after all.

Evie then removed his gauntlet, reminding herself to check it later for damages.

"Why would you even do that? You know they were stronger than us at the moment. The Templars and the Blighters still hold absolute power there, and we've been in London for barely a fortnight," tutted Evie. She noticed that Jacob's clothes were riddled with all sorts of slashes and bullet holes. Blood stained his clothes, whether they were Jacob's or his enemies', she did not know.

"It's amazing how you survived, given how the Blighters you fought almost crushed your armour," she removed her gloves, placing it on Jacob's forehead. He was burning up. "Still, I'm glad you're still alive,"

Evie stayed up all night when Jacob did not come back, it was already over the time he was supposed to return. Worry gnawed at her chest, so she had sought out Henry, her kindred spirit, to provide her with comfort, no matter how small it was. The idea of Jacob dying and leaving her alone in the plan to overthrow Crawford Starrick did cross her mind, but she tried hard to suppress it. It seemed like her worst fear had almost come true. Here comes Jacob, physically destroyed, slumping into the train like a fish out of water. He rarely fought in fights he could never win, unless the situation was dire. What had made him go to Westminster to pick fights with people of higher skill than him? Never fight in a fight you can never win, Sun Tzu had said.

The train stopped at the next station. Henry and Florence Nightingale entered, making their way to the Frye twins. Shock filled Florence's face as she assessed Jacob's injuries.

"What in the world happened to you, Mr Frye?" she asked.

"He picked a fight with people he shouldn't have," answered Evie in stead of her brother.

"This is not good, not good at all. Mr Green, Miss Frye, would you please help me as I am going to remove the bullets that are stuck in Mr Frye's body?" requested Florence.

"Yes," replied the Assassins in unison. Henry removed Jacob's tattered clothes while Evie cleaned the blood off his body.

"I am going to begin the surgery now," announced Florence as she removed her equipment from her bag. Henry glanced at the pocket watch his mother had gotten him on the last day she was staying in London.

Evie knelt beside Jacob, holding his hand. "Jacob? Jacob, are you there?"

"Ev… ie…" Jacob's voice was almost inaudible.

"Miss Nightingale is going to help you. I know it would be painful, but please, stay strong," said Evie. "Let's talk about the times we had in Crawley, alright Jacob? Surely you remember the times where you came up with many new moves right after Father taught us the fundamental skills of fighting, don't you? I used to say they were silly, but you were adamant that they were superior,"

Florence lit a candle and heated her tweezers with it.

"They… were… actually… better than Father's… elementary moves," mustered Jacob. Then he screamed abruptly in pain. The sound of steel hitting steel greeted Evie's ears. The first bullet was removed.

Evie tried to hush her brother. "Jacob, listen to me. You'll be fine. Do you still remember out neighbour, old Nellie? She had the most ferocious-looking dog, but he turned out to be a friendly one. We used to be scared of it, but then we started playing with it, and he was fun to play with,"

Jacob was unable to speak. The pain was too intolerable for him to continue speaking. Sweat beaded his forehead. His breathing grew shallower by the minute, and for a moment there, Evie actually thought he would die. She glanced at Henry in hopes of him offering some support, but instead he was no better than she was. Traces of Jayadeep Mir was still in him: he couldn't bring anyone harm, much less see them in pain. He would like to take their place, to suffer in their place.

This happened a lot when he was still staying in The Tunnel, and he was not sure if he could have made it without the help of Maggie, a fellow dweller. As an unofficial guardian, it was his job to tend to the injured dwellers. Many of them would hurt themselves during the construction of the underground railway, and he would treat them the best he could using whatever he had in hand.

Henry wondered what Maggie would be saying if she were here with him. She would train her fiery eyes at Jacob and say, "Don't you dare die, lad. You still have a whole lotta life to live for," That was Maggie. Despite her age, her spirit remained young and lively. Alas, what was left of her was Henry's memory of her grey matted hair, unlaced boots and a determined face that never wavered.

"Do you remember Ajay, whom we cornered in an alley with George and Father?" asked Evie, her voice slightly quivering. Ajay. The Indian Assassin who turned his back to the teachings of the Assassin way and sold information about Henry to the Templars. Evie had always wondered what made him do that.

"He slit his own throat in front of us, and that was the first time for us to see all the blood and gore of a person spilling out. We never slept that night, didn't we? It was so horrifying,"

"Didn't… stop… you… from… eavesdropping…" Jacob tried to say.

"Father and George were always talking about interesting things, you see. I couldn't think of anything better to expand my knowledge,"

Florence finally removed all the bullets. She began to stitch up the large lacerations with catgut before disinfecting the wound and bandaging it up. She then treated all the smaller cuts. Evie tried to think of all the things she could say to keep Jacob with her.

"It's all finished," announced Florence some hours later. She was absolutely tired after the hours of saving Jacob from the clutches of Death.

"Did you hear that, Jacob?" asked Evie, but she noticed his hand turning colder. His face was pale and gaunt. Fear bubbled inside of her. "Miss Nightingale, is Jacob…"

Florence examined Jacob's pulse. "No worries, Miss Frye. Mr Frye has lost a lot of blood and his pulse is weak. He will be fine a few days later," she took a vial from her medicine box. "Here, it's for the fever,"

Evie took the vial and read the label. 'Warburg's Tincture – administer once a day and the fever is sure to be gone.'

"Also, don't forget to let the fresh air in from time to time. Don't hesitate to alert me when something goes out of the ordinary," said the nurse before taking her leave on the next stop.

"I guess we'll have to clean this mess up, Mr Green," said Evie.

"Agreed, Miss Frye," Henry responded. It conjured up all the memories of the dwellers in The Tunnel he had saved. They all looked at him gratefully and thanked him profusely. But he knew, it was the will of them to live that kept them alive.

The first golden rays of the sun illuminated London. The Assassins cleaned the blood up and moved Jacob into a more comfortable position. Evie thanked Henry and asked him to go get some sleep. When he left, Evie went back to where she was during the surgery.

"I'm so glad you're still alive, Jacob," she whispered. Watching Jacob, she began to grow drowsy, and fell asleep at last.


Evie opened her eyes, only to realize she was in an awkward position. Her muscles ached from the angle she was contorting. Jacob seemed to have not moved at all since the night before. Sensing another person, she looked behind her, seeing Florence with her kind smile.

"Good evening, Miss Frye," she greeted.

Evie blushed at the thought that she had slept the entire day away, and at the fact that Florence had to see her like this, disheveled. "I'm sorry, Miss Nightingale, to be greeting you like this. Have you been here for long?"

"It's fine. I see that you've tried to watch over Mr Frye all night. And no, I just arrived a few moments ago. Mr Frye seems to be fine, although his fever is still quite high. I'll have to renew the bandages,"

Thanks to Florence's skill in medical affairs, Jacob's wounds were not infected. She applied some ointment and bound the wounds with fresh bandages.

"There are no problems with Mr Frye. I have other errands to run, so I will leave on the next station," said Florence.

"Thank you, Miss Nightingale. You have been a great help," thanked Evie.

The train stopped on the next station. "Good day, Miss Frye," said the nurse before she left.

Remembering to inspect Jacob's gauntlet, she took it from where she had left it. Getting a chair, she sat on it while assessing the damages. 'Did he ever oil his blade mechanism? What if it jammed when he was fighting?'

She ran maintenances on the gauntlet. Realizing that Jacob's clothes cannot be worn again, she wondered how she would get him new ones. Clothes fashioned for Assassins had many aspects not found on normal clothes, like an armoured plating, for example. Finding a shop that sold those would not be impossible, but difficult. She could leave right away to look for that shop, but that would mean leaving Jacob alone when he was most vulnerable. After all, how could she leave him like that when he had been there for her when she needed him the most?

When Evie came of age, it was a difficult time for her. Many things have changed for her. Ethan had tried his best to make her feel better, but it was always Jacob who managed to reassure her. When the older boys began to ogle her, who was it but Jacob who beat the living daylights out of every single one of them? Despite not knowing what had made the others start to treat his sister in such an impertinent way, young Jacob Frye had became Evie's beacon of light. He was Evie's silly knight in shining armour.

Thus, Evie decided to leave the clothes business to Henry. Given his connections, he should be able to do something about it quickly. She reminded herself to inform the Indian Assassin if he came to visit. She took a tome from her room and settled down to read it, while keeping an eye at her brother. Conquering London can wait. Crawford Starrick can live a little longer. What's important is that Jacob will recover soon.


Everything was hazy. Ethan sparring with him, ten-year old Evie sharing a treat with him, George Westhouse teaching him about the tenets of the Assassins…

A white light attacked his eyes harshly. A distant sound of a train moving, a dull pain on his torso, so tired. 'Am I dead?' he thought.

"Jacob! Finally, you're awake," said a female's voice gaily. 'Could that be Mother's voice? No, she's dead a long time ago. Funny, I always imagined her voice to be a little like that, but older,'

This added to his confusion. Whose voice could that be? His eyes adjusted to the intense light. A woman with blue eyes and braids looked at him. Jacob opened his mouth, but could only rasp. 'What's happening? I can't move or talk at all,'

The woman held his head up and poured some water into his mouth. It moisturized his throat.

"Evie…"

"Yes, Jacob?"

"What happened?"

"You've been in a coma ever since you came back all bloody four years ago, Jacob. Welcome to London in 1872,"

"What about Starrick?"

"Still on the top of our hit list since I had to take care of you,"

'I've been sleeping for four whole years and London is still not free? I wasted four whole years doing absolutely nothing? Wait, why does the room look and smell the same, and Evie still looks like she hasn't aged a day?' All the thoughts welled up in Jacob's mind.

"Calm down, brother. You've only slept for four days, and your fever broke yesterday," Evie laughed. "Even Miss Nightingale was amazed that you made such a quick recovery,"

"Evie, you devil," Jacob began to laugh too.

Evie opened a container and poured its contents into a bowl. Its aroma was very enticing. Helping Jacob to a sitting position, she sat beside him while spooning the liquid from the bowl to him.

Jacob drank it gratefully. "What's this? It's pretty good,"

"It's chicken soup. I made it this morning, so it should still be warm. It's great that you like it," Evie scooped more.

"Was Greenie the one who taught you how to make this? I taste spices," asked Jacob.

"Yes, he did,"

"Evie, what happened during the four days?"

"Miss Nightingale came every day to check on you. I asked Mr Green to find you another set of your outfit, since the armour in the last one won't protect you anymore. It should be here later today, and no worries, the design is the same, and it comes with a new top hat as well," answered Evie.

"You planned everything so meticulously as usual, Evie. So… Did I do weird things in my sleep?" asked Jacob. His memory of the haziness earlier was fading, but he wanted to know what was happening. If he said something in his sleep, it could connect to what he saw.

"You were never responsive, but you cried out sometimes… You cried out for Mother, as though you saw her," Evie looked away. How could she tell him that she thought he would die, since their mother is dead for almost twenty years? There would be no one to fill Jacob's shoes.

Jacob willed his hand to touch Evie's face. It was difficult, considering he just woke up from four days of coma. He always did this whenever Evie was scared. Whether it was nightmares or the sound of lightning, Jacob knew his presence would soothe her. When was the last time they did this? Six, seven years ago? Jacob did not remember.

"You thought I'd die, Evie? No, I won't. I'm the Master Assassin to-be Jacob Frye, not some random sod on the sidewalks," said Jacob confidently, hiding the fact that he actually thought he was dead for a moment there.

"Then what were you thinking, 'Master Assassin to-be Jacob Frye'? Why did you go all the way to Westminster and start fights? We can always conquer that later, but no, you decided that now was the best time! What if you died, Jacob Frye? I can't possibly go face Starrick on my own!" She waved Jacob's hand away.

"But look at where I am, Evie. Am I with you now, or am I with our old man?"

"Don't change the subject, Jacob! You were too cocky!"

Jacob pulled his sister into a hug. "Maybe I am, Evie. But am I not here now? I swear I'll give Starrick a good spanking before I die,"

"Promise me you won't be reckless, you dolt,"

"Yes, I won't be reckless," Jacob released Evie. "Now, may I have more of the divine soup you made?"

Satisfied, Evie poured more soup from the container, smiling contentedly.

That's all for the chapter. If it were an oneshot, I believe it'd be too long. I will post the next chapter if as soon as possible. I hope you liked the story so far, and see you on the next one!