Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
It was like any normal Tuesday morning in the Kenway household. Haytham Kenway sat reading the paper with a cup of coffee in a mug that read I'm a good dad, his wife Ziio had already packed away lunches for everyone and would just be putting bacon and eggs on their son's plate. Connor typically sat on the couch at watched on the early morning children's cartoons before his mother could call him to the table.
This morning however, Connor decided he wanted to read the newspaper comics. So, he sat next to his father, peering at the comics and slowly mouthing words he recognized. "Daddy, what is this word?" the seven-year-old asked, pointing to a word.
"Rabbit," Haytham replied after glancing at it. "You should know that word."
"I didn't know that's how it was spelled, though," Connor pouted, as his mother set down his breakfast, ruffling his hair as she went to get Haytham's breakfast of toast and beans. Connor chomped on some bacon and proceeded to stare at Garfield, putting his own dialogue into the speech bubbles.
"Ziio, remember I invited Charles Lee for dinner, he and I have some business to discuss on a case," Haytham reminded her. Connor looked up to watch his parents, noting his mother's frown and his father's neutral expression. Connor didn't really know his father's friends from work. Whenever they came over his mother either sent him to his room or made him play outside. If he was good, he got to watch TV, and sometimes if it was that Madaeleine lady, he'd play with Aveline, who was ten and came up with clever games.
"I know," Ziio replied, setting Haytham's plate down. "Ratonhnhaké:ton, finish up, the bus'll be here soon."
"Do I hafta go to school, today?" Connor whined.
"You are not skipping school, young man," Haytham snapped before Ziio could. Connor glanced at his mother, who slowly nodded. He pouted, violently stabbing his eggs with his fork. "Don't take it out on your eggs, Connor. They are innocent in this."
"I don't wanna go to school," Connor said. Haytham folded his paper down to look at his son.
"Give me three good reasons, and I mean well thought out reasons, why you shouldn't have to go to school," Haytham said, "and if I agree with your reasoning then you may stay home for today."
"Okay," Connor said. "School's boring, you and Ista already teach me everything, and… Grandpa Edward says school is for chums."
"Your grandfather only has a high school education, and I don't agree with any of your logic, so as per our arrangement, it's off to school with you."
"Aww, man!" Connor hung his head. He heard the sigh of the bus stopping in front of his house.
"Bus's here sweetie," his mother said. Connor nodded, ate his last strip of bacon, chasing it down with the last sip of milk before grabbing his backpack and lunchbox. "Bye Daddy," he chirped, pressing a kiss to Haytham's cheek. "Bye Ista!" he hugged his mother and suffered her kisses, before he trotted out the door.
"You know," Ziio began, "he's going to think of three good reasons one day."
"Yes," Haytham agreed, "and by then he'll be in college and if he doesn't want to go to school that day, then he'll be out thousands of dollars later and the onus will be on him." Ziio chuckled before she picked up Connor's plate and brought it to the sink.
Connor stared at Charles Lee when he got home from school that day. He only remembered meet four of his father's seven co-workers. Charles Lee wasn't one of them. The only one he really liked was Shay, because Shay gave him candy and would tell him it was their secret. Connor wondered if Charles Lee would give him candy. "Do you have candy?" Connor asked, taking Lee by surprise.
"Uhm… no," Lee said, looking up from his paper work. "No I don't." Lee glanced at Haytham, who looked up from his work.
"Connor, go do your homework, Charles and I are busy," Haytham said. Connor frowned, huffing dramatically and muttering something in Mohawk. He decided Charles Lee was in the same category as William Johnson, nice but not likable. At least Johnson gave him candy sometime.
Connor stopped on the foot of the stares remembering that his father had promised him to help him ride a bike. He ran back into the room a grin on his face. "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" he skidded to a halt at Haytham's side. "You promised you'd help me ride my bike after school," Connor said, hands behind his back and rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. His father sighed. It was never a good sign when he sighed. Sighing meant that he'd get a 'maybe' or a 'no' depending on the request.
"Connor, I have a lot of things to get done with Charles. That's why he's here," Haytham said, putting a hand on Connor's head. "Maybe another time, like tomorrow afternoon."
"But that's so far away," Connor whined.
"I don't mind if you take a bit to teach him to ride a bike sir," Charles butted in, "I have things under control."
"Are you sure?" Haytham asked.
"Yes, go," Charles said. Connor flashed the interloper a triumphant smirk as Haytham got up from his chair, which squeaked like a mouse.
"Go, I'll meet you outside," Haytham said. Connor's smirk grew wider before he dashed off to put his shoes on and get his bike out.
"Do you love Ista?" Connor asked as soon as his father was outside. Haytham frowned, Connor thought the expression made his father look like a cranky old vulture.
"Of course I love you mother, what type of question is that?" Haytham asked. Connor just shrugged, setting one foot upon the peddle as Haytham grabbed the handle bar's edge and the base of the bike's seat. Connor smiled, feeling safe and secure with the familiar scent of his father's aftershave wafting around him and Haytham's chest against his back.
He's mine stupid pug-face Charles Lee! You can't have him, he's my daddy! Connor thought. "Do you kiss Ista?"
"Connor," Haytham growled. Connor felt the warning rumble against his back. "I'm only out here for a short while, so you are either going to ask me silly questions or ride your bike, which is it?"
"I'll ride my bike," Connor mumbled.
"Good," Haytham pushed his weight against the bike. "Start peddling," he said and trotted the bike up to a good speed and let go. Connor laughed as he finally got the hang of riding a bike without training wheels.
"Look at me Daddy! Look at me! I'm doing it! I'm doing it!" Connor shouted. He let go of the handlebars, "Look Daddy! No hands! Whoa!" the bike wobbled and Connor grabbed it again, grinning all the while.
"Very good, I must go back inside now," Haytham said.
Connor stopped the bike, one foot smacking the pavement. "What? No!" Connor said. "I stopped so… you have to help me get started again!"
"Connor, you must learn to do this on your own, I have work to do. We'll work more on this tomorrow, I promise." Haytham said, before walking back into the house. Connor frowned, glaring at the house and wondering what this Charles Lee had over his father.
His mother called him down to dinner around five. Connor came out looking surly and he glowered at Charles Lee, who was asking Ziio if he could help with any since he was imposing upon them. His mother laughed and smiled, informing her guest that it was alright.
"If you're sure," Lee said, "by the way, you look nice tonight. Haytham's lucky."
Connor froze as his mother laughed, telling Charles Lee he was being too kind. No. He wouldn't tolerate this. This man-that-looked-like-a-pug had already stolen his father from him; Connor would not let him take his mother too. With a savage cry, Connor charged at Charles Lee and mustering all the strength his seven-year-old frame could gather: kicked Charles Lee in the shin.
This started off a series of change reactions: Lee yelped causing him to drop the pot of corn he was holding, Ziio shouted Ratonhnhaké:ton! And Haytham!, Connor continued to kick Lee in the shin and beat against his waist with his small fists shouting at Lee that he can't take his mother to that she was his mother; before his father dragged him away from their house guest. "Connor Kenway, you go to your room right now! Go! I do not want to hear any excuses and you won't be getting any dinner tonight! Go!" Haytham shouted, "I'll be up shortly to discuss your punishment with you!"
Connor scowled at his parents and at Lee before stomping his way up the stairs and slammed the door to his room. He flopped onto his bed and beat the pillow until he was too tired to do that anymore. He stared at the ceiling waiting for his father. He had already decided that he didn't like Lee but he never had a category for how much he didn't like someone like Lee. "He's a poopyhead," Connor muttered. It was the must insulting thing he knew, Barry Martin called Jessica Mills that on the playground once, and he got in trouble because of it. Connor frowned, though he better recant that, he knew another equally insulting word, Thomas Hickey taught him that word, and his parents were livid and told him never to say it again. It started with an F.
Connor wasn't sure how to feel about Thomas Hickey, the man gave him candy sometimes, not like Shay, but his parents always seemed so unhappy when Hickey was brought up. The door creaked open and Connor sat up on his bed. He was greeted by his father's scowl.
"Connor Kenway," Haytham began as he closed the door. "I'm very disappointed in you, what you did was uncalled for. Charles Lee is a friend of mine as well as a co-worker. You are to treat him with respect."
"He's a poopyhead," Connor stated. "And he said Ista looked nice."
"He was being friendly," Haytham pointed out.
"He can't have Ista! Ista belongs with you! She's my mommy and your my daddy and you two belong together! That's why that poopyhead got..." Connor screwed up his face trying to remember the line the cowboys said in movies when they killed the outlaws, "got what's comin' for him!"
Haytham pinched the bridge of his nose. "Good grief, Connor, you can't just go around attacking people you don't like!"
"Okay," Connor said. "I won't do that ever again… unless it's Charles Lee. He's a poopyhead and got what's comin' for him!"
"Connor, you are to go down there and apologize and you won't get a good tanning."
"No. I won't! He's a poopyhead!" Connor said.
"Connor Kenway, you will do as I say or you will get your backside tanned properly!" Haytham shouted. Connor stubbornly sat on his bed. "1…" Connor didn't move, "2…." Still the boy remained seated on his bed. "You know what happens when I get to three," Haytham said. Connor nodded. "3." Haytham said.
Connor calmly accepted his punishment, his butt stinging from the slap of the belt. He earned the same punishment the next time Charles Lee came over, and the next, until both his parents and Lee gave into nature and went along with Connor's hatred for Charles Lee.
It was simple: Charles Lee was a poopyhead and that was worse than being whatever that F-word Hickey told him about could ever be.
Lame ending is lame. This is a happy AU, where Charles is a nice guy and Connor is a little brat to him.
Poopyhead is a royal insult in the language of seven-year-olds and you are awesome if you give them candy. Charles didn't give Connor candy.
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-Nemo
