Hey everybody! Sorry this chapter took so long to get up. I kind of ran out of steam and had to regather myself. Thanks to everyone who has favorited/watched/reviewed. I know that there are so many stories out there, and mine may not be to everyone's taste, so thank you for choosing to give this one a shot and leave your thoughts!

I do not own any part of the Assassin's Creed franchise

Chapter 10

Hesitation marked every step she took as she ducked underneath a low hanging canopy to follow the young man she knew only through her best friend. Her mind raced, regret suffocating her as she thought back to Connor's limp and injured body. She had left him, just like she had left Trevor when she first came here. Tears stung at her eyes as she put her head down to hide them from Nathaniel. He had insisted she come with him, that they could save Connor and get her back home. Isn't that what she wanted? Yet, the thought of home was not as alluring as it had once been. Here she now had someone who mattered to her, and she had just left him there to be taken away to the prison. Yet, she knew deep down he would have wanted her to run, to get away and somewhere safe.

His idea of safe probably wouldn't have been with Nathaniel, but she had little choice now as he practically dragged her down to the dock. The scent of the ocean was strong, lingering heavily on the air. It was a smell she missed, but now her mind was far from that. They approached a large building with few windows. It looked like something the traders would store goods in. Her stomach began to tighten as he directed her through the crowd, his pace never slowing even as he pushed the glasses up his nose.

He seemed nervous, and she began to pick up on that as he reached the doors of the structure. "Come on, in here." He pulled it open and shoved her in, nearly slamming it behind him.

"Nathaniel, where are we? We have to go help Connor," she asked, panting as she looked around uneasily. The entrance room was empty and dark, but an open door frame marked the next room. It was lit, and there were voices echoing from it.

The man said nothing as he grabbed her elbow and steered her towards the other room. Panic swept through her, narrowing her vision slightly as she caught glimpse of several men in the room. It was massive, expanding most of the structure. It was empty for the most part, save for a few tables, chairs, and the lanterns that kept it lit. In one chair a man in his fifties sat, his hands folded together as he leaned his elbows onto a wooden table. He was dressed in normal 21st century attire, a business man with a suit and tie.

Something wasn't right, and now she regretted coming here and trusting Nathaniel. He hadn't budged from behind her as the other men noticed them. One she recognized from the market the day before Connor had accused her of being a Templar. He stood regally in an outfit befitting a military leader. With his tricorne tilted down it obscured most of his face, but she knew him from the outfit. It was unique, and not something most people wore. The hair rose on the back of her neck as the man in the chair rose, his hands clasping behind his back.

Immediately she began to wonder if this was the man Connor had caught glimpse of at the pier. Nathaniel didn't have nearly the strength, cunning, or courage to stand amongst these men as if he belonged here. More follower than leader, he preferred to stand behind and do as told. This man radiated power and wealth as he calmly and coldly walked over to her, looking up and down as if she were a piece of meat. She bristled and took a step back, her gaze flitting around the room in hopes of escape.

"So you are Miss Crowell," he said, his voice surprisingly smooth and light.

As he spoke her name, Shay shrank back away from him with a suspicious stare. "Yes..." she said hesitantly as he raised a brow.

"The assassin will be dealt with shortly, and you will be on your way home. That is what you want, yes?" he asked, glancing back at a corner of the room.

"I-" she hesitated, her mind bogged down with the weight of what was happening. She could go home, just leave, and have it all be over. Her heart skipped a beat, feeling guilty with what she was leaving behind. "I have things I have to attend to first, but yes, I want to go home," she whispered.

"Your parents are very worried about you," the older man said, fixing his tie as he turned away.

She grimaced and looked away. "You have spoken to them personally?" she asked, doubtful as she sidestepped away from him, remaining as vigilant as possible in the dim room.

"No, I have," another voice echoed, causing her attention to snap to the dark corner the man had glanced at earlier. Her body immediately went rigid in disbelief as a young man walked forward, a towel in his hands as he rubbed them dry. He stood over her by a few inches with his dirty blonde mop of hair in his blue eyes. He was every bit the stereotypical geek she had known.

"They think you've been lost in the woods you normally hike in, and they have had the sheriff's office looking through hell and high water for you. You need to go home to them," he said, placing the towel on the desk.

"Trevor...you...you're," she stuttered as she took a step forward.

Was he merely an illusion? Her mind had to be playing tricks on her in the low light as he shuffled some things around and put them in an organized pile like he always did. It had always amused her that mess was something he absolutely could not tolerate, especially in his office and work area. Heaven forbid a pen be put out of place. Yet he seemed solid as he straightened back up and fixed his gaze back onto her softly.

He didn't budge as she ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck gratefully. Tears welled up in her eyes, driven back only by her pride as his arms returned the hug. They made her feel secure, shielding her from the world.

"How? I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"They found me lying in the road and nursed me back to health. Don't be sorry, I would want you to stay safe no matter what happened to me," he assured her softly. He drew back, holding her at arm's length away so he could see her in the lantern light.

"Why didn't you come find me? I thought you were gone," she asked, her voice holding that edge it usually did when she was bossing him around.

He smiled slightly and shook his head. "I did find you, I just chose not to see you. You were safe, and I didn't want to jeopardize that."

"Trev, we need to save Connor; he is innocent," she whispered hurriedly, glancing at the man standing not far from them. His stare scrutinized every movement, every whispered word, and it made her feel vulnerable.

"I'm sorry, Shay, but his fate has been decided. We're going to get you home to your parents and you can forget about this whole thing," he denied, shaking his head again as he looked at her sadly.

"What? You would send an innocent man to his death?" she growled, stepping back from him now in anger.

"Innocent? He has killed, Shay, for a cause that supports chaos," he answered simply, putting up his hands as she pulled back.

"He would have saved you if he had found you. You cannot tell me you believe the Templars." Defiant, just as she had always been. Trevor was her best friend, and they had been through a lot, but Connor had saved her life. She at least owed him that if nothing else. "Please, at least let me go."

She saw a flicker of hesitation in his face, giving her a sense of hope that she could possibly get out of here. "And you believe in the cause of the Assassins? You would have the world destroyed?" he asked doubtfully.

"No, I believe that everyone deserves to be free to make their own decisions. I have seen the world of the Templars, and it is a disaster," she replied softly, frowning.

"Enough!" the older man snapped, walking forward. "There will be no more discussion. The assassin will be taken care of, and you will be on your way home by sunset tomorrow. Trevor, take her to her room."

Grimly, her friend nodded and took her by the arm. His grip was warm, confident and directing but not harsh in the slightest as he directed her towards another door frame that was barely visible in the dim light. There was no room for arguing as he pulled her along in the heavy silence. What had happened to him? Her friend was here, but at the same time he was not. He was different...cold and unforgiving.

"What happened?" she asked quietly, staring up at him.

"What do you mean?"

"What was so awful that you would send someone to their death? This is not you, and I don't understand why you're acting like this."

With that he turned around harshly, causing her to bump into him. "What happened?" he hissed, straightening. "I was left for dead in a road, and saved by a group of men who treat me like I am part of their group. Why would I turn my back on them when I owe them my life?"

"You are asking the same of me! Connor saved my life, and I will not just give up on him like you want me to," she growled.

"Why are you so obsessed with this assassin? You have known him only a fraction of the course of our friendship and yet you defend him to the end. I watched you, I see the way you are completely enamored," he snapped. Why was he being so defensive? It made her balk, unsure of what to say. Enamored was a bit much, but she had to admit that she felt an attachment to Connor that she didn't feel with Trevor.

"Is that why you want him dead?" she asked calmly now, glaring at him.

"What? Please, Shay, that is ridiculous. I do not want the man dead, I simply want what is best for our brotherhood," he scoffed, dismissing her claims with a wave of his hand.

"Well, I can't think of another reason. Him not saving you is a crap excuse," she said stiffly as they stopped outside another door.

"I don't want to have this fight with you before you go home. Once you get home and settled you will forget all about him and you can continue on with your life. I will be right behind you, and before you know it everything will be normal." With that he opened the door and gently pulled her in.

It was not particularly splendid, with a small table and bed up against the wall. The sun was beginning to set, purples, reds, and golds filtering in through the small window. Unfortunately it was too high up for her to climb out of, but low enough to let in sufficient light. Prison is what this room screamed. She glanced back at him, her gaze searching his face for at least a hint that everything was going to be alright.

He sighed and offered her a small smile, bringing her into a tense hug. "I'm so glad you're okay, Shay. I was so worried that I wouldn't see you again," he said quietly, giving her a gentle squeeze. "Get some rest and I will see you in the morning."

She forced down a content sigh as he brushed her cheek with his knuckles. There was still some comfort in knowing that he was alive and here. The little voice in the back of her head told her that everything would be alright, but she felt herself growing hesitant. With a small smile he left, securing the door firmly behind him. With him went her resolve as she sank onto the bed, her face in her hands as she allowed the tears to finally come. They streamed hot down her face as a sob made her body shudder in grief and uncertainty.

Crying was not going to help Connor in the least bit, but it felt good to just let it all go. It cleared her mind as she lay back onto the bed,curling up into a ball. She needed to find a way out of here and get to Achilles. He would know what to do.

ooooo

She slept through most of the day, stirring to pace and eat, but not much else. The only window lingered impossibly high above, taunting her with its presence. Trevor had made several attempts to talk to her, but each was met with the cold shoulder and a perfected glower. He shook it off, knowing that she would eventually be back with her family and this whole thing would blow over.

The day passed slowly until he showed back up again, this time forcing her off the cot and out into the hallway. "Here, you're going to want to put these on," he said, his tone strict and unyielding. Glancing down, she saw he was holding out a set of clothes from their time.

She was eager for a sense of normalcy, so she quickly did as told when his back was turned. They felt normal, the jeans hugging her hips, the shirt draped lightly over her torso. She wouldn't be able to wear these outside of the warehouse, but it felt encouraging to have something familiar to her. It was lost quickly as he urged her down the hall way out into the main room. A metal plate lay flat on the ground with some wires trickling up and out a window.

Suspiciously, she glanced around and found only the men from their time. "Trevor, you have to listen," she spoke, a final plea.

He shook his head as he gently steered her up onto the plate. "I'm sorry, Shay, but this has to be done. I will see you in a bit," he brushed aside her plea as if it were nothing. "This will put you about a week after you left right off the trail you usually go hiking on. Story is that you were hiking and went missing."

"And how is that going to be plausible? My clothes are brand new," she pointed out, glaring at him.

"Well, you're thinner than when you left so that won't be much of an issue. You best figure something out, because no one is going to believe you if you don't," he said icily, fixing her with a look as he pulled out a device similar to the size of a smart phone. With his thumb he drew a cross and punched something in.

"I will see you soon," he said gently, pressing the button right as she went to step off the large disc.

There was no warning as a bright light blotched her vision, her ears ringing unbearably as she hunched over. There was no physical pain, merely the loss of all sense and nausea as she clamped her hands over her ears and shut her eyes. A buzzing sensation shot through her limbs, up her neck and into her jaw as she felt herself stumble forward.

Her legs began to tremble as she fell to her knees, her stomach emptying its contents onto the forest floor. Weak and cold, she began to shiver. Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the brightness of the forest. The trees dripped with the recent rain, their leaves drooping under the weight. Evergreen needles littered the floor, giving her a cushion as she fell back onto her butt.

It looked as if she had never left, life hadn't moved a bit. Still the same old place. Perhaps they hadn't succeeded, and Connor had managed to make it out alive. If that was the case then she didn't need to find a way back. Shuddering, she glanced over at a pile of mud and considered what Trevor had said. No one would believe her if she told them everything that had happened, and she would be in the same situation as she was back in the colonial era. At least here the mental hospitals weren't a prison per se. Grimacing, she staggered to her feet and proceeded to cover herself in the disgusting mud, the cold goop drying rapidly onto her arms and face. Ick.

Thin, dirty, but otherwise unharmed didn't seem like a good ploy. She was such a wuss as she stood near some black berry bushes that it took a few minutes for her to gather the courage to scratch herself up. With it came whines and pitiful yelps, her eyes welling as she scratched the sensitive skin under her eye. Now it was more believable.

Gathering up her courage, she stumbled through the trees, shivering violently now as the cold sank into her bones. Ahead she could hear laughter and chattering, the sound of civilization. They really hadn't put her far from people, obviously not terribly worried about the risk of someone seeing her materialize out of thin air. Faking a limp, she staggered out the trees and onto the dirt path.

"Help! Please help me!" she cried, trying to sound hoarse and pitiful as she walked up the path. She knew exactly where the trail led, and continued up it calling out. It didn't take long for someone to find her, an emergency blanket draped around her shoulders as a bystander ran to call emergency services.

When the police came, she suddenly became wary. The uniforms were not standard, the tactical belt held a gun, some pepper spray, a nightstick, but the presence of a cross patched onto the shoulder made her nervous. "Is there a problem, ma'am?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Huh? Oh...um...no, nothing officer," she stuttered, shaking her head as she stepped up into the ambulance. "I need to call my parents."

"Yes, I radioed my station to call them. We've been looking for you since last week, and they're very relieved to know you're okay. They will see you at the hospital," he said matter-of-factly, watching her for a moment before the ambulance doors were shut.

It then occurred to her, the bystander had ran all the way to a park station to call for emergency. The officer had radioed the station to call her parents. None of the bystanders had had a mobile phone. One she could see, not everybody had a phone, but all of them? There had been at least four or five people. Frowning, she looked away as the paramedic inserted an IV into her arm to supply her with fluids.

She remained silent the rest of the ride, ignoring the paramedic's questions until he finally gave up and began filling out his own report. The ambulance swayed back and forth, but the ride was not bumpy or jolting like she expected it to be, and they arrived in short time to the hospital. She was grateful that the hospital was in the town her parents lived in, so it would be a short ride home. It wouldn't take long to discharge her, right?

Her mother met the gurney at the doors to the emergency room, tears streaming down her face as they walked into the hospital. Alarm and fear crept up her spine as the same cross glared down at her from the front of the building, following her into the hallways of the hospital emergency wing. The red symbol stood out, and now she began to fear the worst.

"Shay, we've been so worried about you!" her mother cried, squeezing her hand. "What happened?"

The young woman bit the inside of her cheek lightly as she watched the doctors walk into the room, taking vitals and looking her over. "I got cocky and strayed from the trail," she lied. "I got farther and farther away until I realized I wasn't heading where I thought I was. By that time it was too late. I was lost."

Her father loomed not far behind her mother, her younger brother at his side. Something wasn't right. Impatiently, she shrugged off a nurse that had come to cut off her clothes.

"I'm not injured. I'm just hungry, and thirsty," she grumbled.

"I agree. A little banged up and dehydrated, but not too worse for wear," the doctor said. "I suggest you stay the night for watch."

"No, that isn't necessary. I want to go home," she said defiantly.

"Shay, if the doctor suggests it-" her mother started.

"No!" she snapped, pulling the IV from her arm with a hiss of pain. Immediately she pressed her thumb to the hole, stemming the flow of blood that dripped down her forearm. "I am fine, I really would like to go home, and I legally don't have to stay here."

Her mother glanced uneasily at her father, but nodded. After she was formally discharged, the drive home took mere minutes. As soon as the car stopped she was out and up the front stairs, into the living room. Her shoes were kicked off only in consideration of her mother's constant cleaning and how she would be in trouble if she dragged mud all over the place. Without another thought she tore up the stairs to the second floor.

"Shay! What are you doing?!" her mother cried out horrified as she casually jogged into her brother's bedroom and began tearing apart the closet.

"I need a history book, right now!" Shay demanded, stopping when she saw the insignia in her brother's closet, sitting on the top shelf. "What is that?!"

"Shay, what is wrong with you? Your brother's induction into the brotherhood is tomorrow," her mother said, now mortified that her daughter was acting strange.

"History book!" Shay exclaimed as her brother eyed her angrily.

"Top shelf of the bookcase," he said, grumbling as he unceremoniously shoved his things back into the closet.

Snatching it off the shelf, Shay immediately threw it on the bed and began to thumb through it. "I don't understand what is going on with you," her mother huffed, watching worriedly.

"Colonial...colonial...Washington," Shay mumbled to herself as she flipped through the book, nearly tearing the thin pages in her haste. Finally she found what she was looking for, stopping at the passage about George Washington.

In 1778 at the Battle of Monmouth, George Washington was killed when the British forces overwhelmed his command. After the retreat Charles Lee was assigned leader of the remaining tattered forces.

"Oh no...Connor...They killed Connor."

That's it! I know it was a long wait and I thank everyone for being so patient and I hope this still interests everyone. Time to find a way back next chapter! I promise it won't take nearly this long.