A/N: Hello, y'all! I know it's been forever since I've updated, and let me extend huge apologies for that! Life has been pretty crazy as I near graduation, and there have been a million volunteer activities, prom, school things, etc. etc. Plus my family has been dealing with some serious illnesses, so that has slowed me down as well. But I have not given up on this story, even if my writers block threatens to make it a bad one... Hopefully y'all will stick with me! My case of writer's block has been rough. It seems that when I'm inspired, I don't have the time to sit down and write, and when I actually have free time to write, I can't get out more than a meager sentence. I'm also still stuck in that pessimistic part of it where I don't like anything I write... Hopefully y'all still enjoy it!

I have the next few chapters all planned out, so hopefully it will help me write more. I never really planned for this chapter to be so morose, but it just happened that way. I promise I'll try to curb the miserableness... Haha.

HUGE thank you to all who reviewed! I can't convey enough how much reviews help me, and I can't urge people enough to review! (Who knew I'd be one of those pesky authors who beg for reviews... Oh well!)

Review responses:

madameHunterr: Thank you so much! Sorry for keeping you waiting for more!

Lilith Marx: That's what happens when I write on an incredible lack of sleep... Hahaha. Thanks so much for pointing that out, it has been fixed! I really appreciate your reviews!

Anon: That means a lot, thank you!

Vica: Will do! ;)

""Be courteous to all, but intimate with few, and let those few be well tried before you give them your confidence." George Washington

CHAPTER NINE

Something had changed.

Yes, something had shifted, Rachel decided. What the feeling was, though, she could not decipher. The cause, however, she could pinpoint easily. It had not been the fact that she crossed a river without great distress, and it was not that Connor had told her something about his past. Witnessing killing hadn't caused it, either. No, instead it had been something seemingly insignificant. It had simply been a smile – a laugh.

Connor was no longer just a temporary companion, he was a friend. No longer did she feel uncomfortable around him, no longer did she feel the need to hold herself back or try to be a lady. As if she even had even the smallest semblance of a lady since he'd known her! She laughed internally, reminded again of how horrified her father would be if he saw her in men's clothes, riding with her legs, hair in a braid plaited by a man's hands.

The wind was brutal, a storm of early summer threatening to make them take shelter. Connor was convinced it would pass them by to the east, but Rachel was unconvinced. Though she loved storms and the adrenaline it sent through her, she was beginning to get fidgety.

"We are halfway to New York City," Connor said quietly. "We should be there within two days, possibly tomorrow if we ride hard once we get the horses back."

"Two days?" Exasperated, she slumped as she walked, taking long dragging steps as if she was a child who had just been told that Christmas was still weeks away. They had already been traveling for so long, and they were not even near New York! She knew the journey would be long, but she had never really thought out how many days it would actually take.

"You were the one who wished to go to Virginia," Connor reminded her wryly.

Turning to him, she stuck her tongue out in response, only to be physically jolted by a lightening strike a bit too close for comfort, as if nature was rebuking her for her action. Rachel nearly jumped off the ground, her heart beating frantically. Connor chuckled quietly, and she gave him a look before laughing herself.

A rustle in the trees caught Connor's attention, stealing the smile from his face.

"What is it?" Rachel craned her neck to look around him, hoping it was just an animal. She wasn't sure she could handle any more attacks right now.

Connor shook his head in response, holding up a hand to silence her as he cautiously stepped towards the greenery. Rachel glanced around as well, hoping to spot any danger that Connor was missing.

Instead, she spotted a familiar mare trotting towards her, happily whinnies filling the air.

"Connor," she whispered, her voice barely audible. As he turned and took in the presence of the horse, his face relaxed and he placed his weapon back into his belt, looking around as if expecting someone to walk out of the trees.

"Where did she come from?"

He opened his mouth to speculate, but a booming voice interrupted him.

"Hello, Connor!" The owner of the voice wore a look of near amusement as he waved his arms, as if to make Connor aware of his location in a crowd. "Figured I was smart for sending the horse ahead," he chuckled.

"Last time I snuck up on him, I landed myself on the ground with a blade to my neck," the man chuckled, addressing Rachel.

A slight smile played at Connor's lips and he shook his head, giving Rachel a pre-apology with his eyes. Of all people to have been sent, it had to be this one. David was a relatively new recruit, a young man with a playful demeanor. Despite his seeming inability to take anything seriously, he had taken well to the techniques of the Assassins and had proven himself to be handy in a battle.

"This is Rachel." As David's eyes roamed her body, he felt a sudden irritation rise within him, though he knew the man had no ill intent.

"Oh, my apologies, miss!" Smiling overeagerly, he took her hand and shook it vigorously. "The name's David. Connor here isn't one for formal introductions, I suppose. It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady." He bowed slightly, eliciting raised eyebrows from Rachel, who looked over skeptically at her companion.

"He's been reading Shakespeare," he said dryly, responding to her look.

"I have found it to be rather enlightening," the man said in his defense. "Despite the fact that the materials were... rather difficult to acquire." He gave Rachel a mischievous wink and a dashing smile, and she was unable to keep from returning the gesture.

Shaking his head, Connor cut to the chase.

He was always so direct, Rachel thought. Connor was never one to prolong something with fancy words or games.

"Why have you sought me?"

Laughter melting away from his features, David stood straighter, rigid with seriousness. He glanced to Rachel, unsure how much he should share in her presence.

"There are urgent things that must be addressed." Hesitation was evident in the manner of his voice and the way his hands, having moved freely with expression before, were now clasped behind his back. As Connor opened his mouth to ask of the severity of the situation, David silenced him with another set of words. "That is not all." Hesitating again, he glanced back to Rachel. "They are seeking her," he said quietly, gesturing towards her.

"Me? What would they want of me?" Neither man addressed her question, both thinking quietly to themselves as she felt waves of confusion.

"Perhaps we should not be discussing this here," Connor said ominously, taking Rachel's arm gently and leading her towards the horse.

Angrily, she ripped her arm away from him, putting her hands on her hips in protest.

"Did you know of this? If you did, so help me God, I will -" Her voice hitched as he raised his hands in defense, and interrupted her before she gave David a poor impression.

"I knew nothing of this. But if what he says is true, it would explain much. No matter the truth of these suspicions, we must return to a more secure place," he explained. The calm demeanor of his voice alleviated Rachel's attitude, but she was still confused. Why would someone be searching for her? Perhaps it was men her father had hired to find her, but if that was the case, why would this man know of it?

Connor felt equal confusion as he helped her to mount her horse, and as he swung his leg up behind her, apprehension began to creep into his heart as he realized he would have to tell her of the brotherhood. There was no way to avoid it now – not if she had been thrown into all of it. She deserved to know, but he wished she didn't have to. It would only bring harm to her and deep within him, that knowledge stirred a fear he had not known for a very long time.

He closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, wondering what it was about her that had brought such a feeling forth. It was not a fear for his own life, nor a fear of failure or dishonor, but a far more urgent and important fear – a fear to lose someone of value to him.

He had expected to see fear in her eyes, perhaps even disdain and judgment as he told her of the the Order – as he told her that he practically killed people for a living. Of course it was much more complex than that, and it wasn't as if he went around slaying innocents, but Rachel had no way of knowing that upon first hearing of it. He wouldn't blame her if she refused to hear any more, refused to continue to allow him as her companion.

The conversation was long, and he told her privately, in a room within one of the Assassin safehouses on the outskirts of New York City. Yet as the words flowed from him and he found himself sharing part of his own journey instead of only explaining what the Order was, he saw only patience and gentleness reflected back at him. She listened carefully, only interjecting with occasional questions to clarify his words. Sometimes, when he glanced at her, she would be looking at him, concern in her features, yet other times she would be looking coldly at the floor, as if something he said had brought up memories in her own mind that she did not wish to experience again.

Some things he still could not share. The details of the death of his mother was still hard to say. Her screams still echoed within his dreams as he had fled. As he had began speaking of the attack on his village, he had paused, putting his head in his hands, unable to continue. It had been so long since he had spoken of it, and though he liked to pretend it no longer affected him, anger still festered within him, tearing at him from the inside. Anger. Guilt. Revenge. It was funny, but he still felt a sense of need for revenge. Though the men responsible for his losses were dead, he still could not shake the carnal need.

Just as he had passed over telling her of his mother's death, so too did he fail to tell her of Kanen'tó:kon, or killing his father, leaving it only at the fact he had ended the life of the Templar Grand Master. When he was finally finished, seemingly hours later, he felt an vast sense of relief. Though through being a man he had been bred to believe feelings were weakness, he had long ago realized that leaving emotions within caused even more harm than the feelings in the first place.

Rachel sat quietly, digesting the information. She knew that he expected her to run scared, and admittedly was surprised she hadn't. The urge to return his trust by sharing part of her own past was undeniably, but she suppressed it. This was not the time. For a few minutes, she debated how to respond in the correct way. She did not want to give the impression that she did not value the part of him he had shared with her, yet she did not know how to correctly share the feeling with him.

When she finally spoke, it was on a whim, and she hoped the words were appropriate. "Thank you," she said gently, looking into his eyes in the hope that he would see that the words held much more meaning than their face value.

"For what?"

"For the explanation of what you do." No, that was not right... It sounded too impersonal. Blushing, she berated herself inwardly for over thinking her words, and forced herself to say what she really meant. "And for your trust," she gently muttered, placing a light touch on his hand. "I am honored that you have bestowed it upon me."

In another context and tone, Connor may have thought she was mocking him, but the sincerity in her voice did not pave the way for doubt. As he took her hand, he was glad he did, as well.

"Thank you for listening well." His gaze was suddenly intense, yet Rachel was unable to look away. Connor let his thumb drift lightly over her knuckles, and Rachel felt a shiver descend down her spine. Silently, she half-heartedly scolded her body for reacting in such a way.

"Perhaps we should continue things in the morning," he offered. It had been a long ride to the safehouse, and he could see the weariness in Rachel's eyes.

Nodding in response, Rachel stood, glancing around the room. It was small, containing only a small table and two chairs, where the two had been sitting, along with a small bed. Connor bid her goodnight, heading for the door.

"Connor," she called involuntarily. When he turned to look at her, she stumbled for words. Why had she called out to him? "Goodnight," she mumbled, making herself busy. Connor smiled in response, slightly amused at her occasionally shy nature.

"Dream well."

It had been so long since she slept alone, with only her own mind for company, and she found herself wishing he was still there. As she drifted into sleep, her heart full, Rachel wondered how her family was faring, and found herself hoping they were well.

David had been the one to wake her. He had tapped lightly on her door, bidding her to join them downstairs as soon as she was dressed. It didn't take long to make herself presentable, as there wasn't much she could do for her unruly hair and wrinkled clothing.

Connor was bent over a table, studying documents and nodding as she descended the stairs. When her foot hit a creak in the floorboard, he glanced up, standing when he recognized it was her.

"Any news concerning why they are looking for me?" She had spent her first minutes of the morning trying to come up with any sort of theory, but besides one that involved her father paying someone to find her, she had come up empty.

"It seems they may believe you are his lover and may get to Connor by way of you." David stifled a laugh - surely her blush was making her seem like a foolish girl, and she could not have that. Her protests and assurances that it was not the case stayed in her throat as three new figures strode through the door. The one that seemed to be leading the trio looked hauntingly familiar to Rachel, yet she could not seem to put her finger on it. It gave her an uneasy feeling though, and subconsciously she gravitated towards Connor as if her mind and memories were sending her a warning.

"Connor," the spokesman of the three said, nodding his head in acknowledgment. "The job went well, and the Templar cells on the outskirts of the city have been taken care of."

"I am glad to hear it," Connor responded as he approached to introduce the man to Rachel. "This is Rachel. I am escorting her to her brother's home in Virginia."

As the man turned towards her, his smile faded. Shock and recognition flooded his features, and he nearly took a step back. Connor recognized the odd behavior instantly.

"What is it?"

The man ignored Connor's questions, instead addressing Rachel. "Do you not remember me?"

She tilted her head, furrowing her brow in alarm. How did he know her? From where did she know him? She was sure she had seen him before, now that she had gotten a better look at him.

David spoke up then, trying to cut the tension in the room. "What is going on, Miles?"

"Do you not see?" The main flailed his arms towards Rachel. "Can you not see the resemblance? Do you not remember that night?"

This time, it was Connor who did the questioning. "What is going on, Rachel?" His mind could not get past the words of 'that night', and he jumped to conclusions, trying to suppress them before he knew anything.

"I don't know!"

"Rachel, please." She had to know, Connor thought. How could Miles recognize her so easily, yet she could not remember him? "Do not betray my trust."

Rachel shot daggers at him with her glare. How dare he use her own words against her! "I am just as bewildered as you! Do not think for a moment I would stray from the truth in this situation. I am no coward nor a betrayer of trust."

"Explain yourself, Miles," Connor demanded, ignoring Rachel's angry words.

"Can none see the resemblance? Though David and I were the only ones to have seen her, surely you can see that she is obviously the sister of James."

Suddenly, the memories flew back to her and she could place Miles' face. The night her brother had died, he had been there. He had been one that had arrived with her brother, one that had urged her to gather her things and be ready to flee, claiming an attack was imminent.

How confused she had been, a child of but fourteen. She closed her eyes at the memories of her brother storing her and her siblings within a closet when they had spotted horses in the distance. So vividly she remembered the last embrace he gave her, the last urgent whispers for none to breathe a word lest they be heard.

Her breathing was coming quickly now as she was overwhelmed with memory.

"He was one who helped save you the day of the hanging," Miles explained to Connor. As the men conversed urgently, their voices seemed to fade into the background as Rachel began to feel an overwhelming sense of dread.

Suddenly, Connor remembered. It hit him like a ton of bricks – the fresh faced recruit, so similar in features to Rachel that he was beyond shocked that he had not placed the resemblance before. He turned to Rachel, fear of betrayal in his heart. How had she played along as if she didn't know what the Assassins were? Her own blood was part of the Order!

"Rachel, why did you never tell me?"

She ignored his question, staring only in fear at Miles. She had to ask, but she was afraid of the answer. "Are you saying he was part of this?"

"He was part of the Brotherhood, yes."

Her stomach fell so low she was afraid it would drop from her. How could this be?

"You truly did not know?"

Rachel couldn't answer. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. How had she not known? Yet how could she have known?

"I was there when he died, Rachel." Though Miles' voice was soft, gently speaking the words, they may as well have been daggers within her. "I was there when they killed him."

Physically shaken, she closed her eyes, trying to shut out his words. She couldn't hear of this – she wouldn't! "I was there when we killed those who did it. Isaac, Samuel and I."

Her eyes flew open as she stumbled backwards, mind going back to her brothers arriving home bloodied, not long after James' death. They had claimed it was a wild animal, but now... The truth had been revealed. They had killed. Her brothers were killers. It was one thing to think of Connor taking a life, but to think of her own brothers... She couldn't fathom it, yet the truth of it was irrefutable.

She wanted to throw up, but her chest, heaving with the beginnings of sobs, would not let anything pass.

"I think that's enough," Connor mumbled quietly in the background. Miles apologized fervently, but Rachel was no longer listening. She had to get out of here - she would not break down in front of these men. Refusing to do it, she strode from the room, running outside and into the fresh sunlight.

The shaking took hold of her as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying desperately to calm her mind. It had been so long since she had remembered that day, and now this man was forcing her to relive it all. And the thought that she had not even known the truth of her own family! How could this be?

So disturbed was her mind that it never registered Connor's voice calling out after her. Only when his hand gently gripped her arm did she recognize the fact that he was there. He could not see her like this... He would think of her as a weak and emotional woman, would lose respect for her. Willing the tears away by trying to replace them with anger, she ripped her arm away.

"Don't touch me," she screamed, tears dropping onto her jacket faster than she could wipe them away. As Connor's hands gripped her arms in attempt to steady her, she thrashed about, trying with all of her strength to rip herself from his grasp.

Despite the calming words he whispered, she still protested. "Leave me alone!" Begging for him to leave her to deal with her grief and the betrayal she felt alone, she repeated herself, screaming curses at him before again insisting that he go. "Leave me!"

"No." His voice was unwavering, and the simple word threatened to undo her. Any composure she still retained seemed to melt away, yet along with it went any fight she had left. Collapsing to her knees, she let go.

Connor stared down at her, hand still lingering on her shoulder. He debated whether to grant her wish and let her grieve in peace, but by the way she had wrapped her arms around herself, he was unable to. He sank down beside her, pulling her shaking frame into his chest. Lifting a hand to her hair, he did his best to provide whatever comfort he could.

Slowly, she relaxed within the protection of his arms. Clenched fists opened and slid around him as she tried to force the sobs to subside, still not wanting to seem a mess of emotions in front of him. She wanted him to see her as strong, but surely this would make all images of that disappear.

Wanting to tell her that it was okay, he opened his mouth, but closed it again with the knowledge that it wasn't, and she knew it. So instead of whispering useless words to her, he simply held her, hoping to give comfort by way of companionship.

As the outer form of her distress waned, the inner tumult only swelled. How deep was her family in this? Her father? Her other brothers? Were they involved, too? It was likely, especially as she recalled Connor implying that fathers often passed the Order onto their sons.

Though it explained some things – her brother's disappearance, her other brothers' many "hunting accidents," she still could not grasp the fact that everything she had known, everything she had thought, had been none other than a facade. As her world crumbled, she clung to the man embracing her, holding on in hopes that she, too, would not turn into something she no longer recognized.

If you enjoyed it, hated it, have suggestions or noticed something weird, please review!

New OCs/OCs from a few chapters ago:

James Beeson: Rachel's elder brother, who was an Assassin killed by Templars.

Isaac Beeson: Rachel's elder brother, affiliated w/ the Assassins.

Samuel Beeson: Rachel's elder brother, affiliated w/ the Assassin.

Miles Carter: An Assassin with rank, who was friends with James and was captured with him.

David Shaw: A new recruit of the Colonial Assassins, although he has been affiliated with them for a number of years.