As the month went by since Altair's release, he slowly came to realize how much he actually missed his father. But being how he was, he wouldn't accept that. Nope, his dad walked to his death with no thought of him what so ever. He was a stupid, blind man. He never even said goodbye...

These unnerving thoughts came to him during one of the practicing sessions out in the courtyard. He was jabbing at a straw and burlap dummy with a wooden sword (after his fight with Abbas, he decided he wanted to stay away from a real weapon a bit longer) when he looked over and saw Malik and Kadar being shown some different maneuvers by their father, Faheem.

Now it's not like he was very well acquainted with their father either. There was maybe one instance where he ever spoke to him and that was when he was looking for the Master. Does it make a difference? It's not like he was his kid. He shouldn't have to feel so sad about it.

But he did. And he did because he was jealous. Not once did Umar ever try to teach him anything; not like Faheem, who went out of his way to scrap up some time to teach his sons something. Even if he had one more kid, he found time for them both. What was his dad's excuse? He only had Altair and he failed to speak to him often. Some dad he was. Looking back to those nights after he was gone, he wished he had just gone to sleep instead of wasting his time hoping that his dad would walk in exhausted because he had been on a mission.

Altair shook his head. No, he wasn't alone, he had Al Mualim. Well... sort of. The Master was the closest thing to a father he's ever had. Which, yet again, brings him to feel envious of Malik and Kadar for having a real father and not some teacher who happened to be looking out for them.

If only they knew what it felt like, to have that taken away from them...

It was a couple weeks later, deep into the autumn months, when a messenger came to Masyaf. He was alone, covered in blood, and breathing heaily. Altair saw him rush up the stairs to Al Mualim's study, and there he stood under the balcony listening.

"Amen, you're back so early. Was your mission successful?"

"M-master... Forgive me, I have failed you. We were discovered before we could reach our target. Faheem, he..."

"He is dead?"

"I do believe so... He ran our target. Stubborn as he was, he would not just let him get away. He told me to get out while I could and at least someone could tell you how terribly we have failed. I was a coward. I should not have ran, I could have helped him."

There was a heavy hand on his shoulder, and Altair looked up to see Faheem's battered face. Blood trailed from the corner of his mouth, and his nose was crooked now to the left. The front of his robes were dark and reaked of iron from the dried blood. His hand was craddling his ribs. Shivers shook his body, as if he was freezing.

It was almost like seeing a walking corpse.

Altair didn't believe it. "Y-you're alive!"

Faheem only gave him a short glance, his swollen lip was trembling. When he spoke, it sounded raw and weak, as if his vocal cords were torn. "Did Amen make it here safely?"

He nodded. "He's upstairs speaking with Al Mualim."

The Assassin nodded and started forward on unsteady legs. The very way he clutched the railing of the staircase gave away how unsteady he was. And for a moment, Altair wanted to rush up to help him. But he didn't, he stayed where he stood, and listened.

"Master, I have nothing to say for our mistake. It was my fault entirely."

"No, do not blame yourself."

"Faheem. But we were sure you were dead."

"I finished our mission. The target is dead. And I am glad to see Amen managed to get here and tell you what happened."

"Come here, tell me what happened."

"I would like to hear this as well... Oh Allah! Look at you! How did you not think to see a doctor!"

"I will be fine... really, I-"

"No excuses, this is serious. You can tell us later, but now we need to see to these injuries."

"Yes... Master..."

"Come, Faheem. I will bring you to a doctor."

And that's when Kadar came running in with Malik behind him, they were excited. They brushed just past Altair as Kadar said, "Where's father? I heard he's returned."

There, almost on cue, Amen - with Faheem leaning heavily on his shoulder - came down the steps. The two stood staring with utter shock, and then they rushed up and started swarming them with questions. Altair followed to the doctor's room before hearing Amen snap, "Can you two give him some space? He needs help, not tw boys interrogating him."

Faheem sighed and said, "It is fine, let them." He smiled a fairly cheery smile and added, "besides, I have a lot to tell them."

For the rest of the day, Malik and Kadar sat with their father. Mainly that time was consumed watching the doctor tending to a very large wound in his ribs. Every time the wound was touched, a spark of pain would flash across their father's face. The always strong man they knew had become so weakened. It was scary, and they were both worried.

It wasn't until later, when twilight stained the sky dark hues of blues and reds and violets, that they were able to speak to their father. Faheem was laying back on the bed, unable to sit up, so they sat on either side of him. His skin, usually the olive color all three shared, was so unnaturally pale. But his eyes still glittered with life; those very same eyes that Malik took after, shape and color, still were as lively as he left. He was determined to hang onto life.

Faheem gave them both a smile, the same crooked smile they always saw on his scruffy face when he saw them. "You both have grown so much. I wish your mother could be here to see you."

Their mother. Malik barely remembered her. He did recall her long black hair, pale blue eyes (which Kadar took after), and hold he used to cling to her soft hand when he was much younger. He remembered that she smelled of bread and wood smoke. And there was that lullaby she used to sing...

"Kadar, I could have sworn you were shorter before I left." Their father said.

His brother puffed out his chest, "I'm going to be as good as you some day."

"I hope so," he said. Then his hands undid a the leather necklace around his neck; on it hung a ring with a sword craved into it. He held it up to the candle light, and the flames reflected on the tarnished metal. With a firm hand, he pressed it into Kadar's hand. "You remember the story about how my father gave me the same ring, and his father made it? I want you to have it now, son. Take good care of it, understand?"

Kadar nodded and tied the two ends of the cord, "Yes, father, I do."

Malik stared at that ring a little sadly, he had always wanted it. And now his brother had it.

Faheem then loosely grabbed Malik's forearm. "And you, Malik, be sure to take care of your brother. He is all you have, do not ever let him go. And remember everything I have taught you."

"Yes, father." Malik had turned his gaze down at his lap.

"Look at me, please. This is important." Malik met his stare. "Never forget who you are, and never forget what you fight for. You're the oldest, and so it is your responcibily to make sure that Kadar is safe. Watch out for him, and yourself. Alright?"

Malik nodded. "I understand."

"You two know I love you, more than any father would ever care to tell, and I am proud of both of you. Neither of you forget that, no matter what happens. Never forget that I did everything I have because I cared about you. And that I want you both to grow into confident men some day. If I cannot see that day in person, do not be sad. I will have seen the day with your mother, and we both will be proud when it does."

Kadar sniffled, and then quickly, he wrapped his arms around Faheem's chest. "I love you too, father!"

Faheem smiled and patted Kadar's head before looking over to Malik, who leaned in and rung his own arms around him. And for the longest time they didn't move. To the point where the two boys fell asleep there curled up against their father.

But Malik awoke that morning to Kadar shaking his shoulder. "Malik! Malik! Dad's not waking up! Dad's not waking up!"

Confused, he looked at his panicked brother. "I wouldn't either... It's too early."

"But Malik," Kadar nearly whined, "I think it's bad!"

"If you're so worried then find the doctor..."

Kadar then ran out, and Malik sat up. His father appeared peacefully asleep, a slight smile on his face. He shook his head and nudged his dad's shoulder. "Dad, wake up. It's morning." No responce. Faheem didn't move. "Dad, come on. You're scaring Kadar, stop it." Still nothing. "This is not funny dad! Stop trying to scare us!" Nothing at all. Malik grabbed his dad's wrist when he felt cold skin. That wasn't right. Normally his father's hands were warm. They always were. He felt fer begin to knawl inside him and he started to shake his father's shoulders. "Dad! Wake up! Come on! Wake up!" As he did, Faheem's head lulled back.

Wided with utter dispair, Malik got up and shouted out into the hall, "Someone get the doctor!" But no one was up or out in the halls. Malik charged out and started searching for help when he ran right into Altair. He was breathing heavily now, and he couldn't find the voice to speak.

"Why are you shouting? It's too early..." Altair grumbled.

"My father! He's not waking up," Malik said quickly. "I think he might be sick or something!"

Altair didn't seem convinced. "I doubt he's sick."

"Then come with me and I'll show you!"

They went back the room and Altair sat up on the side of the bed and looked at Faheem a moment before shaking his head. "This isn't good..."

"What? What is it?" Malik said with that same panic that Kadar had.

"He-"

"Out of the way, I need to see to this," said the doctor as he came in and started seeing to Faheem. It was after a minute that he pulled away and looked down.

"Well?" Malik asked, desperate for an answer. "Is he going to be alright?"

The doctor looked up and said quietly, "No... I am afraid he won't."

"Will he wake up soon?" Kadar asked.

"He won't. He's gone."

"But he's right here, how can he be gone," Kadar asked, but already, Malik was starting to get the message. He didn't want to though and denied it in his head. No. No no no no no no! NO! It can't be true!

The doctor could not have been any more blunt then. "He is dead, boy! Don't you understand!"

Kadar took a step back. "No... He... he can't be... Father's not..."

"I am sorry, boy, but I'm not going to lie. He's gone. Best you accept that now."

Tears started to come to Kadar's eyes, and he screamed, "You're lying!" Then he ran right out of the room.

The doctor and Altair both looked over to Malik now. But he was too shocked to speak. He wasn't aware that his knees had lost all strength or that his vision faded out. He didn't know until he woke up with those two plus Al Mualim standing over him.

"Are you alright, child?" The Master asked.

Malik nodded and looked down. "I thought I dreamed that my father died..." He looked either way to see the empty doctor's room. "Is father still on his mission? Where is he?"

Mualim looked at him sympathetically. "I am sorry, truly. Faheem's injuries were too great for him, he died in his sleep last night."

That's when the tears started to come. Malik clenched his fists and shouted, "No! He's not dead! He can't be! Not father!"

"I wish I could say it wasn't either, but it is," the Master said, "you must learn to accept this, Malik. It will be much less painful now than later."

Malik got up and ran out of the room. He just wanted to get away, he didn't want to face what was true. He couldn't bring himself to do it. Not until he ran all the way down to the river and was crouched by the water for a good long five hours. Only then did he finally face the facts and shuffle back up the ravine to the castle. In their room, he found his brother laying on his bed with a blank, dead look in his watery eyes.

"Why did he have to die?" Kadar asked, his voice scratchy and quiet. "Why father? He never did anything wrong... He didn't deserve to die..."

Malik sighed, he hadn't an answer for the question. But there he remembered his father's request. He wouldn't lose Kadar. He wouldn't let that happen. Ever.

At Faheem's funeral, Altair stood in the crowd. There he watched Malik and Kadar both weeping as their father was buried. And there he felt a sudden pain of guilt as he remembered...

He was the one who wished for this to happen...

Oh. My. God... So much writing in one night. Hope you guys like it, because I nearly cried twice while writing this.

I know I should be working on "You Novice" and "AC High School" but I've been stuck on the next chapters to thoses, so I thought I would try to write another chapter of this.

Don't forget to review!