A/N: Hey lads, just a quick one shot because I was too inspired and yes… I wrote this at about 1am so if things are hard to understand, tiredness may be the principal cause!
~ Inspired by Bastille's song "Bad Blood" ~
* Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed or the characters. They all belong to Ubisoft *
I wake up on the floor in the middle of the room; half naked with broken glass around my body, causing the floor to be dangerously sharp at some places. But that I only notice when I roll on my back and small pieces of glass pierce through my flesh. It takes me a while to take them off but I manage – somehow. I rub my face and I flinch when my hand come on my eye. Black eye. Then I feel glass on my right cheek and arm that I also take off. I look down at my hands and they are covered in dried blood. My back is bloody too – with fresh blood –, I know it and can feel it, and I'm smelling shit and alcohol, so I decide to go swim in the salted water of the ocean to clean myself up a bit. When was the last time I did that? By the smell, I can tell that today is the day, so I take a shirt and put on my left boot before leaving.
It's a hot and sunny day and the streets of Nassau are animated, but some people didn't seem to be glad to see me; frowning or spitting as I would pass them by.
I'm almost at the beach when a group of prostitutes stops by me with wide eyes and interest on their face. At first it takes me a moment to get why they seem so horny, but then I understand…
"Wow! Look at the body," says a blonde one as she wraps her hands around my bicep that isn't covered with any fabric… just as my chest.
"And those tattoos, I love them," a second one comments in my ear from behind me. "Goes along with the black eye and the blood stains covering you," she winks.
"I heard what you did yesterday night and it excites me a lot. Wanna show me what you can do?"
"You seem sad, but I think I have just what you need… right beneath this dress," a brown haired one adds as her fingers travel around my sensitive area.
"Sorry but gotta go," I mumble and restart my walk toward the beach.
Once away enough, I strip down and let the waves transport me away with them. Since this morning I feel so wrong, something inside me is wrong, but what? Then I try to remember what happened yesterday. And soon I remember…
After one hard and long week on the Jackdaw, I went to the Old Avery with the crew to celebrate our arrival by drinking and playing dices – well mostly them.
I was sitting at the counter, looking around, drinking my pint when a wave of extreme guilt and sadness crossed my mind as hard as if someone had punched me. On the moment, I pinched the bridge of my nose to get rid of the small headache it gave me as I wondered what was all that for. Then I noticed what had caused me to feel that way: a letter with the simple words "Edward Kenway" written on it resting at the end of the table. I took it and contemplated it for a moment before I read the note my mother had written. Note because it was too short to be a letter. She was asking for news, to say that my father had passed away from a pneumonia and to inform me that she hadn't seen Caroline since I left. How long was it since the last time I saw them? Four years or so I'd say, maybe five.
And then I got a discomfort; I was hot and cold, sad and mad, frustrated and vulnerable. Caroline, the love of my life. My precious little Caroline. I hadn't saw her since too long already but I couldn't go back, I wasn't allow and I wouldn't take the risk. My father… although I loved him, it was a bit his fault if I was here right now; to not become what he had became, a farmer. And my mother, the woman who brought me in this world, who educated me as best as she could. But I was too stubborn to listen causing our house to burn down. And she told me to go. And I did. Without insisting or trying to comfort her, to do something. It just burned down. And then I left them with the consequences of my acts. Because again it was my fault.
So I asked Anne Bonny to serve my a second pint, then a third. I don't know I many pints I drank during the whole night – and I don't know how I can still remember. Suddenly, I was very happy, cheering with the lads, joking, laughing. But about fifteen minutes later, the effect faded away giving its place to a darker side of me I didn't know I had so far. I got violent and started to fight – fortunately I didn't have any weapons, not even my hidden blade – with everyone even with Blackbeard, Ben, Calico Jack. People got scared so they left, leaving me alone with uncontrollable feelings, and once I was done with them, I was now dumping my emotions on the pub itself. Flipping tables over, breaking bottles, kicking on the wooden beams, throwing chairs and stools all over the place.
Leaning my back on the counter, I let myself slid down until I was sitting on the floor. My hands found a few bottles that were still untouched so I drank them all as tears were falling down my cheeks. All the things I had done, all the things I regretted, all the trouble I had caused. I was facing all of that and mourning myself and my father and Caroline and my mother; the people I loved.
I heard steps outside and looked toward the door that opened at the same time. I recognized Adéwalé silhouette despite all the alcohol I had consumed. He came to sit next to me.
"That's a great way to celebrate your return in Nassau, captain," he said with a bit of irony.
" 's what happen when you miss home," I responded with the voice of a drunken sailor.
Adéwalé exhaled and looked away. "How many pints have you drink?" he asked with a frown.
"Don' know…"
"I think it's time to go you home, captain, c'mon get up!"
He stood up and looked down at my attempts to do the same, but my mind and body were too weak because of the liquor and the emotions still causing chaos in my brain to get me up on my feet. Adé placed my arm around his shoulders and helped me to stand up.
After he had struggled to find my house then the key in my pockets, I told him to go. I waited for him to close the door behind me with a "G'night captain," before finishing the bottle and throwing it on the floor, spreading glass all over the room. Then my knees gave up and I fell down on the ground. Because I was burning inside I had taken off my long hooded jacket and had fallen asleep a moment later – after I was done crying and mourning and cursing some more as I was more enraged than anything.
Once I'm clean, I dress up and leave the beach to find something to write a letter to my mother and to repair the damages I made to the Old Avery. I also ow apologizes to the people I hurt and of course, my crew would ask explanations. And I would tell them – mostly – what they need to know.
