Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OCs. Everything else belongs to Ubisoft.
A/N: This chapter may not make sense if you have not re-read chapter 11. Therefore I would recommend you do that before reading this chapter.
"Cameron?"
Cameron opened her eyes to the familiar voice beside her. "Oh no…" she groaned seeing that she was only in her undershirt and pants. Thankfully, the binding was still on her, but she could tell it was out of place. At the realization, she stood up too fast and almost fell again had Connor not grabbed her arm to steady her.
Cameron realized she had been locked up in the same cell as Connor. Well, so much for helping Connor escape. Now they both needed to help each other escape. This was going to be difficult. "I'm sorry, Connor," Cameron sighed. "I should have heeded your words, now were both prisoners."
"What is done is done. The only option now would be to work together to escape. We need to get to Mason Weems.
"Who's Mason Weems?"
"Someone who can forge a key that can get us out of here, but we must take caution."
"Of course,"
"The guards let us roam free downstairs from time to time so we can find him then. He should be around."
Cameron nodded, taking a seat on the hard, uncomfortable bed. After a while, the guards did in fact let them out and with that, they both made their way downstairs. Cameron stayed closely behind Connor as he roamed around silently, looking for anyone who might be named Mason Weems.
Eventually, he came upon a young man who was playing some type of board game alone at one of the tables. "Stay close," Connor warned to Cameron, approaching the young man.
"Mason Weems?"
"Could be," the stranger replied.
Connor took the empty chair across from Mason and sat backwards in it, resting his arms on the back, he leaned in closer.
"I need your help."
"Oh?"
"They say you know a way out of here."
"They say a lot of things."
Suddenly, Connor grabbed the boy's wrist as he was about to make another move. "I do not have time for games."
The boy tugged his wrist out of Connor's grip. "A shame, as I was hoping you'd play one with me."
Cameron watched as Connor gave in, seeing as though that would probably be the only way this Mason fellow would give out any information. She sighed and took a look around automatically regretting her decision as she noticed a few men looking her way. They were staring at her while some whispered to one another—still looking straight at her! The gull! She thought, if these men have anything to say it to me they should just come out and say it! She abruptly turned away to see Connor on his feet. He motioned to Cameron to follow him in which case she obeyed.
While she followed Connor back upstairs, she asked what they were doing now. The only reply she received was a quick, "Hush. Keep close,"
Once he retrieved the key, in which case he pickpocketed, they were locked back in their cells again along with the other men.
"Dusk is approaching. We will escape tomorrow. Now we should sleep. Save our strength for tomorrow."
Cameron was about to ask how they were going to sleep since there was only one bed, but instead she only nodded and watched as Connor took a place on the floor beside the bed. She furrowed her brows and frowned.
"What?" he asked, noticing her frown.
"You should take the bed. I'll take the floor."
Connor shook his head. "The bed is not any more comfortable than the floor," he smirked.
Cameron found herself smiling as she decided to let him have his way. She climbed into bed registering its uncomfortableness. While she tossed and turned a few times, she spotted Connor watching her, eying her with curiosity.
"Yes?" she wondered what was on his mind.
"I assume you would like to know my real name?"
"It's Connor, is it not?"
Connor shook his head. "It is the name Achilles and so many others use because they cannot pronounce my true name."
"Oh."
A moment of silence passed by as they both stared at one another. Finally, he replied, "Ratonhnhaké:ton. It is Mohican,"
In that instant, Cameron felt bad. Here was Connor; opening up to her, while she was hiding her own identity from him and everyone else she cared about. What kind of person was she? She was obviously turning out to be a liar and that struck Cameron hard.
A wave of tears flooded her eyes and blurred her vision before she blinked them away.
"Continue calling me Connor though, I can tell it is easier." He smirked.
Cameron nodded, watching him roll over before she did the same and let a few stray tears run down her cheek.
…
The next morning, Connor tried the key but it didn't open the cell door. "This key is useless!" Connor huffed.
"Let's ask Mason about it later."
Connor agreed. During break, they found Mason sitting at the same table, writing in a journal of some sort. Connor approached Mason and confronted him about the key while Cameron stayed behind and looked around again. Perhaps she would see the man she had met yesterday when she first arrived.
"Your key is useless." She heard Connor state.
"What do you mean?" Mason replied, looking up from his writing.
"It did not fit the lock."
"It's not meant to."
"You forged a key that does not work?"
"Well, that all depends on what you mean by work. It'll get us out of here. Just not the way you expected."
"Then how?" Connor asked, puzzled.
Cameron, intrigued, stepped next to Connor, listening intently.
"You're going to use it to get the real key off the warden. You have to swap yours for his."
"That's insane!" Cameron yelled.
Mason glanced her way, and then went back to his writing, paying her no mind.
Connor leaned in. "Why not just have me take the real key? Why all of this extra work?"
Mason looked back up at Connor. "He might notice if it went missing. This way, he'll be none the wiser."
Cameron rolled her eyes and looked around again. A few men were staring at her again. Having enough, she decided to just turn away. Just then, one of them called out to her, stopping her in her tracks. "What's a young feller like you doing in a prison? How old are you exactly?"
Cameron noticed the man was a bit bulky, but not too. His hair was balding in the center. He looked old enough to be her father. She shuddered at the thought.
"I don't believe that's any of your business," replied Cameron, earning a few oh's from the crowd, gathering around which set Cameron on edge. Damn her tongue. She should have just shut her mouth. What was she getting herself into?
The man seemed a bit taken aback, but that look vanished and was replaced by a smirk. "Aw, I see how it is. You sure you ain't no lady? You sure speak like one, not to mention how soft your skin looks. Too soft for a man's."
Cameron cleared her throat, standing up straighter. "I am not a lady. I just haven't done any labor since I was venturing on my own for the very first time." She stated, raising her chin.
The man harrumphed and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes roamed all over her that it made her quite uncomfortable. From her head to her chest, down her thighs and legs, and finally back up to her face. "Sorry kid. I think I'll have to check just to make sure."
Cameron, losing the composure she had built up, took a giant step back almost losing her balance again when two strong hands landed on her waist to steady her. Looking up, she noticed Connor's brows furrowed deeply. The frown and narrowed eyes was enough to scare anyone. But it wasn't Cameron he was staring at; it was the man who was advancing on her.
"Apologize," was his only word before he pulled Cameron behind him and stepped up to the man.
"And if I don—"
Just like that, Connor drew his fist back and punched the man square in the jaw. But it didn't look like he was finished. In one moment he was backing the man into a corner with several jabs. The man didn't fight back and instead, had to cower down to keep from getting hurt.
Cameron watched, speechless. The only thing she heard was the yelling of the crowded men all around. The only thing she saw was Connor picking the man up and thrusting him against the wall—hard.
Not a second later, he heard Cameron's voice scream his name before he felt something hard hit him in the back several times.
"Fancy yourself a trouble maker, eh? Some time in the pit should cool your blood."
Cameron was left to stare at the men as they drug Connor away.
…
"Mason, they just drug Connor to the pit. How are we supposed to escape now?"
Mason looked up, acknowledging her for the first time. "Fear not. It is all part of the plan to retrieve the true key so the both of you can escape."
"But—"
"Come. Follow me if you won't take my word for it." He said, standing up to lead her down a dingy hallway where no one seemed to go.
"We should wait here until he arrives."
"But how ca—"
Mason held up a hand, and then pointed behind her. Upon turning, she watched as a familiar figure was coming towards them. "Connor, how did you—"
"Quiet, there is a guard not far from here."
Cameron obeyed as Mason unlocked and opened the gate behind them. "You'll find Hickey through that door. It's where they keep the 'important' prisoners. Nicer rooms, more space—those sorts of things. It seems even in prison who you know makes all the difference."
Connor grasped Mason's shoulder, "thank you Mason—for everything. I will find a way to repay the favor when my work here is finished."
Mason nodded as both Connor and Cameron walked through the threshold.
…
"Keep quiet and stay close." Connor whispered as they made their way up several flights of stairs. More than once they had to duck to keep from being spied until finally they came upon Thomas Hickey's cell. Opening it slowly, they entered the dark cell spying a sleeping body on the bed. Connor approached it, shaking it to wake it, until it fell onto the floor to reveal a dead body.
"Not who you was expectin', am I right?"
Cameron and Connor turned, simultaneously seeing Hickey and Charles Lee in the cell entrance, blocking their way. Each had pistols in their hands.
"What have we here?" Lee smirked.
Cameron recognized them at once. The same two men who was in the Green Dragon that day she met Haytham Kenway.
"I thought we'd finished off your kind." Charles spoke lowering his gun.
"You would like that wouldn't you? To rid the world of all who do not share your views?"
"Guilty as charged," Charles smirked proudly, opening his arms wide and moving toward them both. "Your medaling in the revolution has cost us no small measure of grief. It cannot continue. Our work is too important. But what would you know, beyond all the lies Achilles feeds you and the tales you tell yourself?
"I know that the people wish to be free—and that men like Washington fight to make it so."
Charles began stepping closer. "Please! The man is weak. He stumbles and stammers through each engagement, making it up as he goes along. His pedigree is pathetic. His military record even more so. I could go on and on, but we'd be here for days, so manifold are his faults, so deficient are his merits. He must be dealt with. You as well. I will abide no more flies in the ointment."
"'Ere's 'ow it's gonna work. First we bind ya and bring ya to your cell. Then, tomorrow, you go before the court, accused of plottin' to kill o' Georgie. Maybe we could pin the murder of the warden on you too." Hickey suddenly turned to Cameron, smirking. "Or maybe we'll pin the murder your sweetheart here. One of you must've killed him. And who wouldn't take the word of Charlie over here? Once that's all squared away, well then…" Hickey mimicked being hanged and just like that, Connor lunged for Charles before Cameron could stop him.
Countering, Charles pinned Connor against the cell door with his pistol against his throat. "Grab the other one!" he ordered Hickey who obeyed and grabbed Cameron aiming his gun at her temple.
Charles turned back to Connor, their eyes locking and sudden realization hit him. "All those years ago… The child in the forest was you."
"I said I would find you."
"And so you have. But not quite as you expected, am I right? You know—all of this might have been avoided had you only done as I'd asked. Ah, but what's done is done."
All the while, Cameron had been keeping still and silent but curious. What was Charles talking about? Had they encountered one another before? A moment later, he released Connor who slummed to the floor.
…
After they were both bind and escorted back to their cells, Cameron helped Connor onto the bed, but again he refused so she gently set him down on the ground and knelt beside him. Involuntarily, she brushed back a loose strand of hair from his face. She wanted to ask him how he and Charles had crossed paths before but knew this wasn't the time to ask him such things.
Turning to face her, Connor stared blankly at her until he motioned with his chin to the bed, for her to sleep.
Cameron shook her head and moved closer to him, hoping to offer some if any sort of comfort. Connor frowned, but said nothing else. Within the next moments—or perhaps hours—Cameron fell asleep on Connor's shoulder.
...
