"This is beautiful."

Even in the less than perfect circumstances, Elina couldn't help feeling amazed at the city where they now found themselves. Something Italian? She wasn't even sure, but wherever it was, it was totally different from anything she'd ever seen before. The towers around her had the look of something not so much built as crafted, and Elina could only imagine that it was perfect for whatever Assassin they were here to recruit.

She heard a laugh—quickly cut off, almost guilty, and turned, suddenly self conscious. Elijah and Khemu had gone off ahead to try and scout ahead a little bit, which left Elina alone with the two women. She didn't know either of them that well, and to be honest Khemu's mom kind of scared her a little, so it felt a little weird that one of them was laughing at her.

"Sorry," she said, flushing bright red. "I—"

She stopped when Amunet shook her head and said… something in Egyptian. Elina didn't speak a word of it, and Amunet obviously didn't speak English either, so Elina turned instinctively to Layla for an explanation.

"She says she didn't mean to laugh," Layla says. "But you looked happy."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Elina says defensively, but she has a feeling that there is. There are people back home that are counting on them to save them, and one of those people is her father. Maybe it's wrong to be enjoying this.

She feels herself sinking a little, shoulders drooping. She ducks her head.

Amunet snorts, an impatient noise that only drives home to Elina how stupid she must look, spinning around like this. She says something, voice clipped and short, and then strides forward, past Elina. As she walks past, she touches her shoulder in a distinct come on gesture.

So Elina comes, why not? She's not going to argue with the terrifying Assassin mother of one of her best friends while they're stuck centuries in the past on a mission to save the people they care about from some crazy isu.

Her life is a lot weirder all of a sudden than it was just a few days ago.

The three of them get a few stares as they move, but not as many as Elina would have expected. She's not as great at history as someone that knows for a fact that time travel is real probably should be, so she doesn't know exactly when they are—she can definitely tell that it's a time between when Amunet's ancient Egyptian garb fell out of fashion, and when the jeans Elina wears would start to look normal.

Amunet seems to have a sixth sense for avoiding people, which… okay, so that makes sense. She is an Assassin after all, or… a proto Assassin anyway. Same thing—she definitely knows how to hide, and more than once she puts out a hand to stop Elina from walking out to far, or gestures for her to follow more closely.

"They're not going to be able to find us," Elina says, after they've been walking for what feels like forever. It's probably only been ten or fifteen minutes, but she keeps thinking about how screwed she'd be if got separated from the other two, lost in this city with no one to help her figure out what to do.

(Which leads to the other thought, the one she's been trying not to think too loudly, even in the privacy of her own head—what is she even doing here? Her, of all the people in the world it could have been)

"Who?" Layla asks.

"Khemu," Elina says. "Elijah."

"They have Senu with them," Layla points out. "They'll find us."

Which, okay, fair point, and that does make her feel a little bit better. Even if she gets lost here, Senu will find her. Probably. But maybe it's better to keep close anyway. So Elina does that, trailing close behind Amunet, and doesn't realize that maybe she's too close until Amunet abruptly moves upward, and Elina almost runs smack into a wall.

"I can't—" She remembers the language barrier, and turns to appeal to Layla instead. "I don't know how to climb like that. Dad says that kind of stuff is for Assassins."

Amunet doesn't listen. Which should be obvious, right, because even if she did listen she wouldn't have any idea what Elina was saying. But Elina still can't help but think that it's a little rude for Amunet to just start talking over her before she's even done. Layla looks briefly confused as she tries to take in what both of them are saying, then sighs and looks at Elina. "She says you're going to learn."

If Elina's being honest with herself, that sends a little thrill of excitement up through her. She hasn't put much thought into whether she thinks the Assassins or the Templars are right (and honestly, why can't they all just be Hidden Ones? Fighting on the same side together to protect people from scary stuff like Juno). But she does know that the Assassins look way cooler, and all the climbing and parkour stuff would be awesome to learn.

Her dad hates the idea. They've argued about it before.

"Okay," she says, a little dumbstruck and a little shy. "I'll learn."

And so Amunet teaches her how to climb, with occasional help from Layla, who translates Amunet's quick, one or two word instructions whenever gesturing and her own example isn't enough to show Elina what to do.

"Don't look down," Layla says when they're halfway up.

It's the first time she's said anything that isn't a straight translation for Amunet in a while, so of course Elina's first instinct is to react to it, and (stupidly) her reaction is to immediately look down. "Oh," she says, getting it at once. "We are… very high up."

"I did tell you not to look," Layla points out. "Come on, focus. We're almost there."

They're only three floors up, Elina tries to remind herself as she continues to follow Amunet. The building isn't actually all that tall compared to the other ones around them, just… it's still tall enough that she would definitely get squished into a gross, super dead puddle if she happened to fall.

She pauses, hanging onto her handhold so hard that it scratches at her palms.

Above her, Amunet leans down to look at her, balancing casually with only one hand on the stonework. She says… something, and gestures to the angle of her own body. A little clumsily, Elina tries to mimic her. Amunet has to actually lean down and adjust the way she's holding on, but when she's done Elina has to admit she's in a much more comfortable position. "Thanks," she says, and tries to keep that form as she follows Amunet up the last few feet to the roof of the building.

"Okay," she says, looking out at the (still unnamed) city, spread out below them. "That's incredible."

-/-

"Do you know where we're going?" Khemu asks Elijah after a half hour or so of walking. "This place is huge."

"Another one of my dad's ancestors lives here," Elijah says. He pauses, then adds, "I mean, Ezio's my ancestor too, but he actually knows my dad. I figured it would be easier to start with the people that already know about time travel and might want to help, because…" He hesitates, then admits, "Because I have no idea how I'm going to convince people that are new to this to follow us."

Us. That phrasing makes him a little uncomfortable, because Khemu knows it's not a question of following all of them. Whether or not he likes it, Khemu has an uncomfortable feeling that Elijah's falling into the position of their leader. And he knows Elijah. He knows where he's strong and where he's weak, and Khemu… isn't totally sure Elijah's ready to lead like this.

"We don't really have a plan," Khemu says, instead of voicing his doubts about Elijah's leadership out loud. "Do we?"

Elijah snorts. "We have a list of people and a time traveling apple, and that's about it. We are so far away from having a plan that it's not even funny, okay?"

"There's nothing funny about this," Khemu says, and then sighs. "Okay," he says. "So… do you at least know where we are? Or where we're going?"

"Florence, Italy," Elijah says. "And we're going…" He gestures vaguely. "That way. About four blocks, and then I think I can find the house from there."

"And you'll be able to talk to him and convince him to help and everything?"

"Talk to him, probably," Elijah says. "My weird knowing thing is pretty reliable about helping me figure out languages. And I should be able to convince him. Like I said, he knows my dad, and I don't know why he wouldn't do whatever he can to help him."

It's pretty obvious that in the world according to Elijah, there's no reason to think that anyone and everyone that can help save his dad will do so without hesitation. Which, fair enough, Khemu has a pretty similarly biased opinion about saving his own dad. Logically, he knows it's not true, but deep inside, he can't face the idea that anything would stand in the way of getting his dad back.

So all he says is, "Okay. I trust you."

The get odd looks as they walk, but apart from some younger kids that stop and point, no one actually does anything about them. Khemu would have expected that wearing clothes five hundred years ahead of the fashion curve would have set off alarms if nothing else did, but to his surprise…

No one says anything.

"Elijah," he mutters. "Is it weird that no one's trying to stop us?"

"Uh…" Elijah's eyes dart from one side to the other. "Yea, probably? I guess maybe everyone's thinking someone else is going to deal with it, like… you know how they do those studies of like how if there's an accident in a big group of people, no one will actually call 911 because they assume someone else is going to do it?"

"No," Khemu says.

"Well they do," Elijah says. "No one wants to be That Guy that makes a big deal out of something, and I guess that's even true five hundred years ago."

"Really?"

Elijah shrugs. "That, or someone's calling the police or guards or whatever, and we should probably hurry up and find Ezio before that happens."

They look at each other, then pick up speed. That only makes people stare more, of course, and by the time they come around a corner and come face to face with an armed guard heading toward them, Khemu isn't even surprised.

"Uh," Khemu says. "Elijah…"

"I see him," Elijah says.

The guard says something in—Italian, probably? Elijah had said they're in Florence, which means Italian. Khemu doesn't speak Italian, so he looks instinctively toward his friend for help.

But before Elijah even has a chance to open his mouth, Khemu goes stiff. He'd seen something heading toward them, over the rooftops. A flash of white, and his heart jumps. An Assassin? It has to be an Assassin, right? "Elijah," he whispers. "Look…"

The probably-an-Assassin stands for a second on the rooftop, too far away for Khemu to see him clearly. Then, he jumps.

Mentally, Elijah upgrades the probably-an-Assassin to a definitely-an-Assassin.

He doesn't make an effort to hide as the Assassin emerges from the haycart he's landed in, although he does fidget a little. Assassins are… well, they're assassins. They assassinate people, and there's something about those robes that are really intimidating. Elijah tries to remind himself that Assassins aren't supposed to harm innocents, but it doesn't work so well when he keeps thinking about how long and sharp the hidden blades are.

Then the Assassin pushes back his hood, and Elijah relaxes with an audible sigh of relief. He doesn't know Ezio's face that well, but he's seen some images from animus footage, and it's enough to recognize him up close, with the hood down. "Hey," he says. "We were looking for you."

"You're a little far from home, aren't you?" Ezio asks, eyeing both of them in a way that makes Elijah feel younger than he is.

"Do you know what happened to my dad?" Elijah asks. Time travel makes it a little hard to keep track of who knows what, so it's probably safest to start with the basics.

"Yes," Ezio says. "With the isu he and Berg rescued from the Templars. I'm sorry, Elijah."

"Yea," Elijah says. "Me too. I…" He glances sideways at Khemu, just because he needs the familiar face. "I came here because we're recruiting people to help dad—"

"And my dad," Khemu interjects. "And Berg too, I guess. For Elina." He pauses. "And because it's the right thing to do."

"You know I will," Ezio says. Then he takes a step back and looks them both over again. "But first, if you have the time, you should come back with me. Come have something to eat and a night's sleep."

It's tempting. Elijah can't remember the last time he slept, really slept—he's dozed off a couple times, but those naps had been more like nightmares, with the constant flashes of Aita's life creeping into his. He hadn't even slept the night before, thanks to the nightmares.

"Do we have time?" Khemu asks, looking at Elijah.

Probably. Maybe. Honestly, the idea of sleeping suddenly sounds irresistible, now that it's been brought up. "Yea," he says. "I think we'll… yea. We'll make time. But we have to find everyone else first." He looks back up at Ezio. "We brought a few other friends too, everyone else that avoided… you know. Aita."

"I have a safehouse not far from here," Ezio says. "I'll take you there, and then I'll go find anyone else wearing clothes like yours, alright?"

Honestly, it feels pretty good to have someone else making the decisions for a little while. He nods, and lets Ezio take over for a little while.

-/-

Ezio's safehouse turns out to be a little hole in the wall, almost literally, tucked into an alleyway, the entrance of which is hidden behind an enthusiastic basket merchant. The man winks as Ezio leads them inside. He covers up their entrance by squawking out a particularly enthusiastic advertisement for his wares. It makes every single person that walks past avert their eyes in self defense, clearly afraid he's going to single them out to try and make his pitch, and as a result all three of them are able to slip inside, unseen.

Ezio promises to come back with food and the rest of the group, and ducks back out. Khemu and Elijah share a look, then burrow into the small amount of space that Ezio calls his safehouse.

It's barely five foot tall, so both of them just sit down to avoid having to crouch. Khemu hits his head anyway, and makes a face as he squats down and rubs at the sore spot. There are a few sort-of beds—piles of blankets bunched up into something more like nests—scattered around the floor, and a few odds and ends lie in boxes along the far wall. A lantern casts cozy, flickering light along the uneven walls. It's warm, and Khemu thinks it's the first time he's felt really safe since he found out his dad had been turned to stone.

Only… no.

Frowning, he realizes it's the first time he's felt really safe since he saw his mom again. That's when this squirming, unsettled feeling started inside him, and now, for the first time, he can feel himself starting to settle a little bit.

"Hey Elijah," he says, and then again, when he doesn't get an answer, "Elijah?"

This time he turns, and can't help smiling a little when he sees Elijah lying flat on his stomach on a heaped up pile of blankets, face turned just enough to one side that he can breathe. He's obviously fast asleep, and Khemu isn't going to wake him up after the kind of day he's had. Instead, he settles in with his back against the wall to wait.

When Ezio comes back, Elijah is snoring slightly, and Khemu is finally feeling relaxed enough to give his mom a small, nervous smile.

She looks surprised for a second, but then gives him a sort of blink and you'll miss it smile in return before Elina comes running over to him, windswept and excited about her wall climbing adventure.

-/-

Berg wants to kill this man, possibly more than he has ever wanted to kill anyone before in his life.

No. That's an exaggeration. That has to be an exaggeration, because he's wanted to kill quite a few people during his time as a mercenary, and then eventually as a Templar. But there's something truly rage inducing about being frozen from the waist down and utterly trapped. Even with Juno, as horrifying as she had been, Berg hadn't felt quite this stuck. She had controlled minds, but Berg has always been honest enough with himself to know that his strength lies more in his body than in his mind. Now that's been taken away, and he's feeling claustrophobic and terrified and ready to lash out at the utter bastard that's done this to him.

"I just want to have a conversation," the man says. "I'm just looking for answers."

"I'm not going to tell you anything," Berg snarls, and the man's eyes narrow.

"Pity," he says. "Because it could mean the difference between the human race continuing to exist as you know it… or not."

And he's serious, Berg realizes. He's absolutely serious. Something very cold seems to run down his spine, and he grits his teeth. "What do you want to know?" he spits out.

And the man says—

"Everything."

-/-

You can always tell when my life gets a little too busy because when I don't get enough sleep, I just write my characters falling asleep. I mean, it's the same thing, right?