Altair couldn't claim to be the most mature, or responsible person in the world. He wasn't even legally an adult yet, and most people his age wouldn't be held accountable for half the things Altair found himself burdened with. Most of the things he knew now, had been forced on him far too early, and being forced to adapt had given him a fair bit of knowledge through experience alone. However, Altair had a certain amount of common sense, and could rationally come to a few conclusions with his own brain.

So when he was suddenly forced to direct sentences like: "Connor, don't climb in the clothes drier!" at another member of his own species, he found himself wondering if he was cut out for this whole 'taking care of other kids' thing, after all. Still it was his own fault, he reasoned. If he hadn't snapped at Ezio, he wouldn't have run off, and Altair would not have had to leave three very young children alone in an empty house with a twelve pack of soda for five hours. And subsequently, he would not have had to insist some measure of punishment be meted out. And he most certainly would not have chosen forcing all three of his young surrogate siblings to accompany him on his boring errands.

Altair sighed and closed the dirty white lid of the washing machine, closing his eyes as he did. He slowly opened them and without turning around, said in a cold and even tone: "Aveline, if you get that detergent all over you, I will put you in the washing machine next."

He was met with only silence behind him before Connor spoke up, sounding awed. "How do you even do that? Do you have eyes in the back of your head?"

Altair turned around to see Aveline standing there with a large heavy bottle of detergent in her hands, and Connor standing next to her, guiltily holding the lid. He flattened his eyebrows, and leaned up against the machine, folding his arms. "I can smell it from here."

Aveline responded with a look of scrutiny. "This whole place smells like detergent, how could you possibly tell it apart?"

"Magic."

"Liar."

"Give me the bottle."

Slowly the cap was placed back on the bottle, and the heavy red canister was placed squarely in Altair's extended palms. Altair turned back to the washing machine he stood in front of and put the bottle on the platform behind it. The third and youngest of the group, Desmond, sat quietly on the washing machine next to the one Altair was using, quietly twisting a roll of quarters in his hands. When Altair turned his attention back to him, the boy piped up.

"Altair, can I put the money in?"

Altair couldn't help but feel a little jealous, and also a bit amused at the fact that Desmond was so entranced with a coin-op Laundromat. Everything was an adventure to his four-year-old mind, and even the small act of pushing coins into a slot on a dirty washing machine was exciting. He smiled a little and picked Desmond up under the arms, and turned him around. He grunted as he hoisted the boy up to the slot much to the younger's delight. Desmond slowly pried open the roll with his tiny fingers and prized one of the shiny treasures from its brown wrapping. He fumbled a bit to push the coin into the slot, but eventually it went in, leaving Desmond the opportunity to yank the lever, starting the wash cycle.

Once the machine rumbled to life against Altair's stomach he pulled Desmond back and sat him on the floor. The little boy instantly scurried over to Connor and Aveline, grabbing onto the girl's arm. "Did you see me? I started it."

"Yes you did." She patted him on the head, approvingly.

Altair took a deep breath and leaned back, feeling his lower back vibrate and shake with the undulations of the machine. It was already almost noon and he hadn't gotten half the things done that he needed to do today.

"So now what?" Connor asked, yanking open a door on one of the driers, bored.

"Now we wait for the laundry to be done."

"What?!" Connor groaned dramatically.

Aveline gasped with equal indignation. "But that could take like… twelve hours!" She looked at Connor who nodded approvingly at her exaggeration.

"I told you to bring something to do." Altair frowned.

"But we did it already." Aveline folded her arms.

Connor looked up at him. "Can we try to climb up the driers?"

"No."

Desmond slowly reached up and took a hold of Altair's index finger. "Maybe you should tell us a story."

"Oh yeah." Connor nodded. "Do that."

Altair was seriously reconsidering letting them climb all over the heavy machinery now. "A story?" He asked, holding back a snort. He slowly led all three over to the small waiting area, and sat them down, pulling Desmond onto his lap. "I don't know any stories."

Connor pulled himself up onto the chair next to him, and Aveline climbed up beside him. "Tell us one about you."

"About me? Ezio already told you all the stories about when we were running away together."

Aveline scrunched her nose. "Then tell us one about before that."

There was a pang in Altair's chest. "There isn't much to tell. I went to a school and then I ran away." He looked down, lightly bouncing Desmond on his knee.

"So why'd you run away?" Connor leaned back in the chair, grabbing onto the edges, and kicking his feet.

The pang hit harder in Altair's chest. Now, if they had asked this question of him even a year ago, Altair would have brushed them off and told them to amuse themselves in silence. However, things were much different now. After everything they had been through together, the idea of such cold treatment left him feeling uneasy. "It's not a fun story."

"Is it a sad story?" Desmond asked craning his head back.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Aveline and Connor's features softened. They seemed a little ashamed by their questions all of a sudden. After all, even though they were incredibly young, they had their fair share of sad stories. "What happened?" Aveline eventually ventured a query.

"You don't have to tell us." Connor instantly added.

Altair frowned, looking down at Desmond. "Well…" He chewed on his lip. "I didn't really like school. At all. The classes were too easy, and I didn't like almost any of my classmates. The headmaster was so hard on us, and there were a lot of times that it felt more like a prison than a school." He shook his head, and looked up at the kids, gauging their reactions before continuing. "Anyways, the only parts I liked were my friends." A small smile parted his lips and he leaned back in the chair. "Abbas, Malik and his brother Kadar. The four of us did everything together, and usually got into a lot of trouble doing it… Anyways, there was this one time, where I convinced them all to sneak out with me. I told them we should go down to the creek, and look for frogs, or crayfish, or… something like that. But it was raining, and none of them really wanted to go."

He paused, taking a moment to chew on his lip, thoughtfully. All the children sat quietly, listening as he spoke, and looking up at him, completely transfixed.

"It was rocky by the creek, and when it rained it got slippery. But I wanted to go anyways, and I wanted all of them to go with me. So once I finally convinced them, we snuck out the back like we usually did, and made our way down to the creek. I wasn't having any trouble. Mud and moss never really bothered me, and I always just sort of… knew where to put my feet. I guess I assumed everyone else was the same way." The loud panging sensation in his chest was getting quicker. More frequent. "We all started climbing down to the creek. I made it down first, and Kadar was right behind me. But he was slower than I was, and… he couldn't see like I could… couldn't see where to put his feet." He felt like he'd just swallowed a spoon full of sand, as the next words came up his throat. "He slipped."

There was a small measure of silence, as he let the words sink in. He wasn't sure if he was pausing for the kids' benefit, or for his own. His mind began to wander back to that day. He could still see the look on Malik's face when his brother fell. He could still hear the crack when-

"Was he okay?" Aveline's words brought him back.

Altair swallowed heavily and he shook his head. "He hit his head. Right on the edge of a rock. It was… It was bad. I remember I could see him breathing, and for a while I thought he was joking. But he just lay there. He didn't move." He reached up and wiped his nose on the back of his jacket sleeve, looking intently at one tile of the Laundromat floor. "Malik freaked out. He was only about half way down, when Kadar fell, and when he did… Malik just… jumped. He let go and pushed himself off, to try to get to his brother, and he landed on his wrist." He grimaced at the memory. He tried to push the image out of his mind, as he recalled Malik's arm, twisting in front of him. As he recalled seeing blood. Seeing bone.

"He broke his arm?" Desmond asked, looking up.

"It wasn't just broken it was… destroyed, practically." Altair looked down at the boy. "I remember hearing Abbas screaming from up top, and I remember him running away to get help. And I… I just stood there." He sighed. "I stood there and stared until the adults came and got us out of that creek. They pulled us all out, and when I went to go stand by Abbas… he was just glaring at me."

That memory still haunted him. Those angry eyes. That judging stare. At the time he had thought it was the worst thing that had happened that night.

"He told me it was all my fault. That I was the reason it happened. And… then they took Malik and Kadar to the hospital." Altair shook himself off, trying to bring his story to a conclusion. "And after that… I knew they'd never forgive me. So I left. I took everything I needed, and I ran away. I hated that school. My friends were the only ones I liked, and if I didn't have that…"

He let the sentence finish itself. Slowly the three children exchanged glances. Each trying to gauge which of the others would ask whatever questions they had. Finally, Connor summoned the courage. "Do you know what happened to Malik and Kadar?"

The question made him flinch. Maybe, in the future he would be able to share the answer to that question. Maybe some day he would be able to say that they had to cut Malik's arm clean off. And maybe one day, he would be able to come to grips with what had happened to Kadar. But as it was, there was no chance.

"Not really."

"Oh."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the group. They each sat in their chairs, and looked on quietly. The only noise and object to keep them occupied was the rhythmic thumping of the washing machine, spinning their clothes around and around. It wasn't the best ambiance, but it had a certain soothing aspect to it. Altair's mind slowly began to settle, and he leaned back in the chair once more. He allowed his mind to wander to more pleasant things, and more current things. Like how, under no circumstances would he ever leave these three alone in the house with a twelve pack of sugary soda, again.

Finally a buzzer sounded, and all four of them exchanged glances. Aveline spoke first. "I guess we have to wait for the laundry to finish drying now, huh?"

"That's right." Altair stood up, picking Desmond up with him.

"Alright, that's fine." Connor drew his knees to his chest. "Only how about this time, Aveline and I tell the story."

A smirk tugged at the corner of Altair's lips. "Fair enough."

(Hi guys. I'd like to start out with an apology. I realize you've all been waiting for me to update since forever, and its been way more than a year already. I am really sorry, you guys are great, and really patient. Unfortunately, I've clearly been having a lot of trouble with the story. I'm not sure what to go with it, and my inspiration has been really very lacking for a long time. I can't guarantee any continuation, but I'll keep trying. Again, I'm really sorry. Thanks for your continued interest and support. You guys are the best.)