Update time! In my mind this chapter was going to quite a bit longer but I really wanted to get a chapter out. As always any reviews are really appreciated and help motivate me.

Chapter 26: Ghosts that we knew

Samantha was torn between continuing onward and turning her horse around.

Her anxiety increased with every step her horse took, stomach roiling in displeasure as her clammy hands gripping the reins tighter than was necessary. Altaïr seemed to take no notice, and for that she was grateful. She didn't want to show her weakness to anyone.

"We worked well together on our last mission," Altaïr's grumbling voice broke through her reverie.

"Perhaps we make a better team than you thought." Samantha willed her voice to remain even and then forced a small smile.

Their time spent in Damascus was brief as they had done well, incredibly so.

Their target had been Jubair, a scholar in the city. He had been burning books, filled with knowledge that Samantha longed to preserve. The man was a lunatic, claiming that the books were weapons to trap people. She supposed that was true, if the final goal was to have a mindless herd of sheep following a leader without asking questions. Knowledge was and always will be power.

The mission had ended up being an easy success.

She had jumped in despite Altaïr's warnings in order to prevent Jubair from pushing a man into the large bon fire he had created. It was lucky she had, for her actions had knocked their target to the floor and prevented him from escaping the building.

Altaïr moved in for the kill while the man she had saved fled. Jubair's devout followers, however, wished to finish what they had started. Samantha cut through them as if they were made of nothing but paper, the thrill of the fight filling her after the many days she had spent inactive.

The whole assassination was very quiet and drew little attention. No guards came, no civilians fled in fear, and very little blood was spilt. They cleaned their blades and headed back to the bureau unhindered.

Afterwards something strange happened. Altaïr had complimented her.

He spoke about how using her instincts was her strongest attribute, and how it had helped save the life of an innocent that day.

She could tell that the words had not come easily, but he was trying and that was what really mattered. Samantha wanted to trust him again, and perhaps this was a first big step.

However they were no longer in Damascus and were not headed towards Masyaf.

A letter had been sent by Al Mualim to the bureau and the contents had made her blood run cold. The one place that she never wished to see again was the one place that they had to go.

Their two day journey was nearly over, and by nightfall she would be in Acre again.

Her skin crawled at the thought of the city and she longed to be as far away from it as possible. Going there was now her duty, though, and she would not fail no matter how she might feel. All she could do now was push her fears and memories to the back of her mind and hope that she would not fall apart.

Rhaego did not seem to mind the familiar path and seemed to constantly want to go at a faster pace. After hours of trying to make him slow down she had given up, letting the horse wander ahead of Altaïr. She found that she was glad for the distance between them, fearing that he would notice her discomfort the closer they got to their destination.

The night descended quickly around her and left Sam hoping that they would make camp instead of going on to Acre. Just the thought of another night to steel herself made her feel better.

A small breeze picked up as the night got colder. Samantha closed her eyes, trusting Rhaego not to wander off of the path, and relished the cool air against her warm skin. A chorus of crickets picked up to mix in with the sound of Rhaego's breathing and the tamping of hooves on the ground.

A new sound appeared out of the darkness.

The sound of waves crashing against stone ramparts shouldn't have sounded so ominous. Samantha had always loved the ocean before this, but now it held nothing but bad memories.

Her fears were confirmed as Altaïr reined up beside her.

She hadn't even noticed that Rhaego had stopped moving, wrapped up as she was in her dread. Her eyes drifted towards Altaïr, even his white robes could barely be made out in the darkness. The heavens had graced them with a new moon that night, leaving her unable to see the city but for a vague outline.

"There will be no one on the streets at this hour," Altaïr spoke as he dismounted.

"Let us hope that it is too dark for the guards to see us," Samantha replied almost mechanically. Her hopes of avoiding the city for another night had been dashed and she was trying to remain calm.

She found her feet hitting the ground. Her hand met Rhaego's neck as she followed behind Altaïr towards the stables. Sam's fingers dug into his coat, serving to ground her and focus her attention on something other than her fears.

The stables were warm and nearly all of the stalls were full. She led Rhaego to one of the only empty spaces, her fingers fumbling with the buckles on his saddle. Any other day she could have done this in a matter of minutes, but with shaking hands the task was much harder.

A hand covered hers and she could feel Altaïr's presence behind her.

"Allow me." His words were barely a mumble and before she could move he grabbed her hand and moved it away from the saddle.

Samantha stepped away from her horse, allowing him more room and giving her a moment to steady her breathing. He hung up her saddle and grabbed her bag full of supplies.

"Are you feeling well?" Altaïr asked, handing her bag over.

"Of course," she lied, keeping her voice cheery.

She could hear rustling as he shouldered his own bag. "Are you sure? Your hands were shaking."

Samantha had to come up with an excuse quickly. "Excited," she turned away from him and headed for the door, "we've got a new mission and I'm just excited." Her voice had nearly faltered as she ended her lie so she attempted to perk up her tone once more, "Let's just get going!"

She couldn't tell whether or not she had convinced him, but he followed her out of the stables nonetheless and then led them into the city.

Sam trusted him enough to believe he knew where he was going, and so she followed him blindly through the empty streets. Their quick footsteps were barely audible even in the silence of the night. They were still cautious though, and darted quickly between the darkest shadows. She knew the bureau when she saw it, even in the blackness of the night.

Her body followed Altaïr up onto the roof, muscles moving to scale the walls as she had a dozen times before in other cities.

This was not a bureau that Sam had ever seen before, and when she had been imprisoned in Acre she had been under the impression that there were no assassins in the city. This thought brought up many questions.

The inside of the building was a sharp contrast from the night, and even the dim lamps had her blinking bright spots out of her vision. Bookshelves lined two of the walls in the main room and a workbench sat against another. The Rafiq stood behind his own desk, his sharp eyes peering at them impatiently.

"I hope we did not keep you waiting too long."

Samantha's eyes wandered around the room as Altaïr spoke to the Rafiq. She felt much better inside the bureau. The ocean could no longer be heard and the inside looked similar enough to the others that she could pretend she was in one of them. Whether or not her mind would allow her to was another matter entirely.

Altaïr bid the Rafiq a good night and she followed him down the hall. The light from the main room faded behind them and the hallway grew darker with each step. Sam focused on the back of Altaïr's heels, only stopping when she accidentally bumped into his back.

She looked up to find him staring at her. Doors were on either side of them and she assumed that they had made it to their rooms.

"Do you still insist that you are fine?" He looked concerned, even if all she could see was his mouth frowning at her.

Sam made her excuses of being tired and quickly said goodnight before rushing into one of the rooms.

With the door closed behind her she slowed her pace to a walk, moving over to plop her bag onto the round wooden table before her with a long sigh. Her belt followed the bag along with her sword. The process went on until she was standing in nothing but her underwear. Samantha gazed at the bed across the room, hoping that she would be able to sleep tonight.

Even with no clothes on the room was too warm and her palms still sweat. She clenched her fist, moving over to the basin beside her bed and splashing her face with the water within it. Sam vowed to try to overcome this. She had to.

The urge to pace her room all night was overwhelming, but she resisted and forced herself to lie down in bed. Cool, crisp sheets covered her in their comforting embrace and the soft confines of the bed pulled her thoughts away from the cold hard floor that she had spent months sleeping on.

She was trapped.

Something bound her arms together and kept her from moving. There was someone else there, their presence obscured by darkness. Memories flashed before her eyes, those of torturous men who wanted nothing more than to harm her. She struggled, kicking at the soft ground beneath her in an attempt to free her arms.

A newly lit candle on the table illuminated the room and cast shadows onto the wall. Altaïr stood in its light.

Samantha looked down to find that her body had become entangled in her sheets. Her skin was covered in an uncomfortable film of sweat and she immediately wished the room was a bit cooler.

Had she been in some sort of waking nightmare? Everything had appeared so real and yet she had only been trapped in her own mind.

As she disentangled her arms a movement from in front of her caught her eye.

"Altaïr."

"Hush," he held out his hand to stop her speaking anything more.

The bed dipped in as he moved to sit in front of her.

"It's this place isn't it? You have been uneasy ever since the letter came ordering us here."

Sam nodded, not trusting her voice.

"What is it you fear?"

She curled her legs up in front of her, hugging them tightly. It took her a few moments before she answered, "Being trapped again, unable to see the sun except for a small hole in the wall." Her cell had been present in the back of her mind ever since they had left Damascus. "I fear being forced to accept my fate because I cannot change it, and I fear dying alone."

Altaïr grasped her hand and pulled it towards him. "You are not alone."

Samantha waited a minute, debating on whether or not to ask this question. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

"Did anyone look for me?"

His grip tightened on her hand. That was the answer then.

"Why?" She should have expected that they wouldn't look for her, but still part of her had hoped.

"We did not know-"

"If there is even one thing that you owe me, Altaïr, it is the truth." Sam hadn't meant to snap, but now more than ever she wanted the truth from him.

"Al Mualim forbade it. Forgive me for saying this, but I was not myself then and I would not have searched either way."

Samantha thought that hearing it from his own mouth would hurt more, but the Altaïr that was now sitting before her was remorseful and had changed. There was nothing left to hate or be upset about.

"Please allow me to help you with this."

She wasn't sure anything could help her. Sam was exhausted and simply wanted to sleep, uninterrupted by nightmares of the past. Tomorrow was another day and she could face her fears then.

"Very well," she agreed, her voice hinting at her uncertainty.

"Then allow me to stay here for the night; a friendly presence may help you sleep more soundly." There was no hint of joking or amusement in his voice, and for a moment Samantha couldn't believe he had actually asked to spend the night with her.

Despite the nights they had spent camping between cities she had never thought that he would ever ask to share a bed with her.

"I don't think-"

"Trust me," he interrupted her mid-sentence, "if only for this once, Samantha."

She should have said no. Sending him back to his own room would have been the safest choice considering that she still shouldn't trust him completely.

"Very well."

Her words incited movement from Altaïr as he released her hand. She could feel him circle around her to lay down, not touching her even once as he settled in beside her.

Samantha didn't know what time it was or how long he would stay, but she knew that this choice would not kill her. Not to mention that she had promised to give him a chance to show how he had changed. He had already proved himself a few times and this could be another such instance.

Her body was too tired to think of anything more regarding Altaïr's character. Sam turned over on her side, facing away from him and stealing all of the sheets for herself. If Altaïr minded he made no mention of it, and in the morning she would be glad of the decency that the sheets offered from the nakedness of her breasts. For now, though, her breathing slowed as she relaxed and drifted closer and closer to sleep. The small noises in the bureau began to blend together, making a soothing background noise that lulled her into a semi-conscious state.

A static clouded her mind as she neared the brink of unconsciousness. Warm fingers caressed her back in long strokes and she briefly wondered if Altaïr thought she was asleep. She didn't care. The calloused pads of his fingers felt heavenly and she made no move to reprimand him.

She wished she was not so tired; at least then she could have said something to him. It felt as if she had walked into a dream. The Altaïr she had known would never had been so gentle and affectionate towards her and therefore a dream was the only explanation.

Sleep descended upon her just as a warm pair of lips met her skin. The slight stubble on Altaïr's face rubbed against her as a second kiss was planted on her spine, just between her shoulder blades.

His voice broke through the relative silence in the room, speaking words that she could only hope to remember in the morning.

"I will earn your trust back, Sam. You are worth every moment it takes."

Samantha awoke to the sound of her door opening and closing. She longed to keep her eyes closed but the question of who was entering her room was too much to ignore. Her hand patted the bed beside her where she was positive Altaïr had been last night but all it met was empty space.

"How are you feeling?"

The sound of his voice from across the room was enough motivation to open her bleary eyes.

"Well rested," she responded, one hand rubbing the remnants of sleep from her eyes and the other propping her up into a sitting position. "What time is it?"

Altaïr was already dressed and the bed beside her was not warm enough for him to have just gotten up.

"It is midday."

She supposed that explained why she felt so rested despite nearly half of her night being spent in a nightmare. However the late hour meant that she had slept too long and wasted their chance to uncover information about their target, and Sam wasn't sure she was ready to spend another night in the city.

"We have no time to lose then," her bare feet met the cool stone floor, "if we are lucky we will be able to find everything we need to know about this 'Sibrand' before nightfall."

He held out his hand for her to stop, something she noticed he did quite often now. Sam briefly wondered if this was his way of stopping himself from snapping at her. "It has been taken care of. I gathered the information we needed while you slept."

Her hands that had been pulling the sheets to her nearly bare body stilled briefly, "What? Why?"

"You are an assassin now and no longer need to do such work."

Samantha couldn't believe what she was hearing. On their last mission she had done reconnaissance with him and he hadn't said a word. She waited for him to speak again, knowing perfectly well why he had truly done it himself.

"And I know what this city is to you. If you'd like I can perform the mission myself." His voice was surprisingly soft and she watched as he cautiously made his way over to her. It was as if he was afraid that she might bolt if he made any sudden movements.

She hated it. He was treating her as if she would break if he said one word out of turn. He was treating her as if she was weak.

Her hands tightened around the sheets, gripping them until her knuckles paled. She was weak. Acre was one monster that she did not want to face; it was the one place that frightened her to her very core.

"No," she breathed, the sheets falling as she cupped her face in her hand, "that will not help me overcome my fears."

The bed dipped as Altaïr sat before her, much like he had the night before.

"Shall we overcome them together then?" He held out his hand for her to take, "I am still at fault for this and I fully intend to set it right."

Samantha could not help a smile from creeping onto her face as she placed her hand in his.

Altaïr could tell from the look on Sam's face that this was not going to be as easy as her smile had made it seem; especially considering she could barely make it out onto the roof of the bureau due to her shaking hands. He would have to figure out what the bastard Robert had done to her here. He had wanted to distance himself from that topic as much as possible in order to forget what pain he had caused her, but now it had come back to bite him.

He would do anything he could to help her. Assassinating Sibrand could wait if need be.

The streets were buzzing with people and he could tell Samantha was panicking. She flinched at every loud noise and looked around endlessly as if she were expecting an attack at any second. He would have to get her off of the streets to some place quiet where she could relax. Perhaps then she could tell him the details of what had happened to her.

Altaïr found the nearest food vendor and paid him for two loaves of bread and some fresh cheese. Sam was surely hungry even if she did not voice it. He looked to her, walking dutifully beside him.

Samantha did not ask where he was leading them even as they walked through the gates of the city. She did not relax even then, and he knew she wouldn't until they were far from this place. Still he led on, taking them in a wide circle around the city of Acre.

He could now feel her questioning eyes upon him as he led her through the hilly terrain. The sparse trees were not enough to conceal them from any guards that could be watching, but he had travelled this path many times and had never once been followed.

The ground was beginning to slope downwards towards a crag between the land and ocean. Sam seemed to be getting more nervous the closer they got to the water. Altaïr found that odd, since it was she who had saved him from drowning what seemed like so long ago.

Bits of rock and sand began to crumble beneath their feet. He secured their lunch in one hand and grasped Sam's hand with the other. They would need to slide the rest of the way down and Sam's clammy hands confirmed that she was panicking more than she let on.

They made it to the bottom without incident, for which Altaïr was extremely thankful.

Before them now was a cave, protected from the blasting surf by a wall of solid rock. He had accidentally discovered it the second time he had come to Acre on a mission. Templars had been chasing him from the city and he had slipped down the slope and tumbled into the shallow waters of the cave. The Templars never caught him and he had found a new refuge that day. Before now no one had ever known about it.

Altaïr moved to step forward beneath the overhang of rock, still grasping Sam's hand within his own. He was immediately stopped as Samantha would not budge.

"What is wrong?" He questioned before turning face her.

She shook her head back and forth, "I want to go back." Samantha's body was trembling like a leaf but other than that it seemed that her fear had paralyzed her. She was unable to go back or continue onwards.

Their package of food dropped out of his hand, unnoticed, onto the damp rock beneath them. "Please tell me what is wrong." Altaïr grasped her shoulders with both hands, worried by the unnatural paleness of her skin and the way her whole body shook. "You are here, Samantha," he reassured, wishing that she would look up at him, "not in the memory that your mind has conjured."

Samantha could feel the icy water around her body, pulling her deeper into its depths as she struggled against it. Her mind told her that she was on solid ground and that Altaïr was speaking to her, but her body still fought against the choking sensation of salt water filling her lungs.

She could remember the blackness of that night in perfect detail and it consumed her vision. The rumbling of waves against stone and the salty tang of sea spray brought her back there. Sam doubled over, catching herself and scraping her hand on the rock beneath her. She was hyperventilating, still caught in the memory of fighting for the tiniest breath of air before another wave crashed over her.

Altaïr forced her to look up to him, golden brown eyes pulling her out of her memories.

Her breath still came quickly and he softly commanded her to control her breathing. She did. In and out, she repeated in her head until her breathing had slowed. Altaïr had let go of her chin, but still kneeled beside her, one hand laid gently on her back.

As the memories faded she was left feeling weak. Her body now trembled as she sobbed into her hands. Sam had not expected her fears to hit her this hard, even after Amy warned her about having post-traumatic stress. More than anything, though, she was frustrated. The time she had spent imprisoned here should have left her stronger than ever. She had escaped and lived despite nearly the whole world acting against her. That had to be worth something.

Tears continued to fall and she desperately wished she could stop them. Despite having lived through so much she was still afraid of death, and this cave Altaïr had brought her too reminded her all too well of how she could have died the night that she had escaped. She wanted to curse him for bringing her here, but he had only been trying to help.

"Please speak to me, Samantha."

She inhaled again, steeling herself in order to speak. "I-I am better." Her stomach still felt like it was in knots, but having Altaïr's presence here had helped her. God forbid she had been alone on this mission.

Every fiber of her being wanted to get over her fears and unwelcome memories, but she knew it would be a long process.

Altaïr grasped her hands tightly and pulled her to her feet. Her legs wobbled a bit but he quickly steadied her.

"Let's eat, and when you are ready perhaps you could tell me what happened to you here," he suggested.

She nodded, eyes cast down to the dark rock beneath her. "Yes, that may help," she agreed. Never had she spoken aloud what had happened to her in Acre; even Amy had not wanted to broach the subject.

She vowed to recount it as best she could in hope that it would help in some way. No matter how hard it would be for her to speak about it she would not stop until all of what had happened to her was laid bare before Altaïr.