All she saw was a light.
A golden, shimmering light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. The only thing that made her feel alive when all she thought about was death.
She contemplated going to it. Will the light kill me? She asked herself, or will it give me life?
She touched her shoulder. It no longer ached, it no longer bled. Her heart no longer beat. And she noticed with a start—she wasn't even breathing.
This is it, she thought, this is where I say goodbye to the world. And why is that so bad? She lived more years than some of those beggars on the streets, some orphaned children, some infants. Perhaps even more than her sister. Was it a sin to want more? Was it the pinnacle of greed to turn her back on the beckoning light?
She took one step forward, the light propelled forward, hurrying towards her in speed only light could achieve. In an instant, it was standing before her, she was standing before her, in all her blinding, golden glory. Yara, the woman she promised.
Yara was crying, glistening tears dripping down her chin, she stared at May as if she was the reason for her imprisonment, and her death.
"Save me." Her lips quivered, she curled her armoured fingers into fists. The sound of gold grating against gold shuddered in May's ears. She winced.
"You're dead, Yara. Let go." May said.
"I'm not dead, I'm alive. I'm alive, and I'm dead in this prison."
"You're dead. You've been dead for thousands of years." May took a step back, eyes stinging, "You're dead."
"So are you."
May blinked, wincing as she stared into the light of the burning sun itself.
"I'm alive."
"No, you're dead. Let go." Yara came forward, seizing May by the neck. She began squeezing, her metal claws digging into May's flesh.
Maybelle wheezed, but she felt far too feeble to even protest, let alone raise a hand to pry Yara's hand off. Her eyes rolled back, drool touched her lips, cold and thin.
"If you're not alive, the die!" Yara slammed May into an invisible wall, choking her. May's eyes began to close, and no matter how hard she tried to keep them open, she failed.
"Why didn't you save me?! Why didn't you save me?!"
May opened her eyes, finding a white ceiling instead of the void blackness of her feverish dream. Her heart was beating loudly, thrumming against her ribs. She put a shuddering hand to it.
Someone came to view, a man. Her eyes were too blurry to judge, and the room spun endlessly, she swallowed back a gag.
"You're awake, welcome back to London," The man said, touching her forehead.
She cleared her throat, "Who… are you…"
"Woman, you hurt me. It's your ol' mate, Calvin!"
"Calvin? Oh…" The boy who tended to the bar, on the train… Wait…
"Where am I?" She closed her eyes to shut out a pounding headache.
"You're in Mr. Green's former shop, in Whitechapel. It was Jacob's idea. He found no place safe to lay low except this one."
Jacob, his name was a buzz to her entire body, she needed to see him, "Where is he now?"
"Green? Oh, he's in-"
"No, Calvin." She sighed, then felt a sudden pain at her shoulder, "Ow…"
"Oh… what is it, your shoulder?"
May opened her eyes and looked around, she was on a bed with a blue wool quilt covering her, two pillows were under her neck, great, now she'll have a strained neck for at least a week. At the end of the room was an open door, leading to a wide room full of empty, dusty shelves.
Calvin leaned in closer, lifting her thin shirt and inspecting the wound, "We had to stitch this one up for ya, kept you under for quite a while since you kept screaming."
"I don't remember screaming."
"You had a fever, and you lost a lot of blood."
"From a shoulder wound?"
Calvin stared at her blankly, then realization hit him, "Oh, you think you have just the one? No, dove, you were stabbed in the back and took one other bullet in your arm."
"What?" She tried to push herself up from the bed, but something ached between her shoulder blades. Damn it, so close to her spine.
"Probably didn't feel it till after, can't say I blame ya. Jacob tells me it was a massacre."
Visions of that fiery night returned to Maybelle, as vividly as they occurred. Burning men bumping into each other, debris falling and crushing those who survived, blood seeping from places illogical, she didn't think she'd forget those sights.
"Did… did anyone survive?"
"Three Rooks, one is barely twenty. And you two." Calvin avoided her gaze, as if his eyes were teary and he didn't want her to see it. He probably knew men from that headquarters. After all, they followed their boss everywhere to defend him.
The whole headquarters, up in flames, with no survivors except five. Will, you fucking monster, I'm going to kill you.
"Calvin, could you please get Jacob?" She felt her voice raising.
"Oh, yeah. He went to get some supplies. We're going to be here for a while, least, until he says it's enough."
May said nothing, instead, she imagined all the ways she could kill William. A while later, she heard Calvin asking her if she wants something to drink. Her mouth felt like a desert, but she couldn't find the strength to tell him. So, he left.
She slept dreamlessly until a familiar voice woke her.
"And that here is for Agnes, tell her to prepare half of it, we're trying to cut down."
"Did you bring ointment?"
"Yeah, can't forget with my leg burning like that."
"I'll take it from here, boss."
May fought to open her heavy eyes. The light coming from the windows had turned to a purple sunset. Immediately, she remembered the headquarters, and how she used to view sunsets as they glistened over the Thames. She sighed, when will this nightmare fade from her memory?
She turned to her side and pushed herself out of the bed, standing on her legs. Suddenly, blood escaped her head and she saw nothing but a tunnel, she felt cold, too cold. And her muscles were far too weak to even carry her to Jacob. But she had to see him, she had to see if he's alright. She had to see him to believe it.
She took the first step like a baby learning how to walk, then another, the wide room seemed so far away, yet it was right there. She hated feeling so weak, so defenceless. She never lost so much blood, never broke a bone because of how careful she was with heights. And now, she couldn't even walk straight.
She reached the doorframe. Agnes and Calvin were working in a tiny kitchen, whipping out pans and pots with dust and rat droppings stuck to them. To the right, Jacob sat at a desk and a library with few, colourless books, hunched over a tome and two maps.
May moved closer and touched his shoulder, he slightly jumped, leaving his thoughts and daydreams and looking at the intruder.
His right cheek was raw and taut against his face, from the smouldering wood where he laid half unconscious. His hair was snipped closer to his scalp, and he was wearing the darkest, deepest frown she's ever seen on him.
She couldn't find the words, couldn't form the questions. She lifted her hand and touched his chin, she wanted to know if he's real, wanted to know if she's still lost in that nightmare. His stubble was prickly, and he was warm from the long walk outside. And most importantly, the flush of life was in his skin, he's alive.
"I thought you died." She said.
"If I died, then who carried you here before you bled to death?" He smiled warmly, taking her hand and pressing it between his own. She thought he died, she thought she lost him.
"Jacob, I'm sorry."
"No, you haven't done anything."
"I didn't tell you about Will and what he'd done to me, I didn't tell you about the letter he slipped under our closet, I didn't tell you about the missions he made me do, or the things he made me take. I didn't tell you what kind of person he was behind the mask. I didn't tell you anything, it's all my fault." She pulled her hand away and tried to fight the tears.
"May, it's not your fault. Whatever you could've told me, it would just delay the inevitable. Will was planning this. I'm not stupid, May. He goes missing, along with his stuff from the headquarters and the train, and a Templar attack happens to take place? No, it's too obvious. It's just that I can't believe it."
"I understand he was your right-hand-man…"
"No, he was a lot more than that," at this point, he was saying the words to himself, "He was a friend when I needed one, and a foe when I was about to do something stupid. He was a student, yet he taught me things no one else could've taught me. He was a helper after Greenie, and a planner when I didn't know what to do. He was… more precious to me than you can imagine, in so many ways."
"I understand."
"No, May. You truly don't understand. I've taught him everything I know, then adored him like he's the only person in the world. And he was, to me, in that period where I was in London alone. You don't understand."
He was right, she didn't understand, "Maybe I don't understand betrayal, but I understand injustice, cruelty, mistreatment, imprisonment, loss, fear, exhaustion, and even loneliness," She put her hand on his shoulder, "I know pain, Jacob, I know how pain tastes like. You're not alone."
He looked at her, then his frown melted into deep sadness. She just wanted to embrace him, to tell him it's all alright, but they seemed so disconnected, so distant.
"We'll get through this, we got through worse, didn't we?"
"I'm not so sure about that." He said, sighing.
She shook her head, then took a seat on his plans and books. Her legs felt like jelly and she was sweating too much. Five minutes ago, she was feeling frozen to the bone.
Jacob eyed her warily, "Shouldn't you be in bed?"
"No, I shouldn't. And fifty-something Rooks shouldn't be in their graves. And a beautiful headquarters by the banks of the Thames should still be standing."
Jacob went silent, and watched her numbly.
"Since you put two and two together, did you also discover that your ex spymaster is behind everything. And I mean everything?"
"What do you mean?"
She told him.
Jacob stared at the wall of books throughout, as if trying to ignore the pure poison that's coming out of May's mouth. Even Calvin and Agnes stood in the doorframe in flour-covered aprons, listening, not trying to hide it.
When May was done spewing hatred and swears and oaths, Jacob stood from the chair and walked to an end table nestled against the wall, its texture somewhat blending with the mahogany of the shelves and paneling. He pulled out the altered map, turning it this way and that, as if trying to solve a riddle.
"Jacob."
He ignored her, and brought the map close to his face, he squinted, she barely saw the whites of his eyes.
"Jacob, that's enough. I've told you what I-"
Jacob threw the map away, it crashed somewhere behind him, barely cracked. He slammed his hands against the end table and stared at it, trying to contain an outburst.
"Everything we've been through, everyone who died along the way, and it was all for nothing? All of it? All we've suffered, and we're chasing after a dream?!"
Will's words came out of Jacob's mouth, this time bubbling with anger. He pushed the table with his knee, several books came tumbling down and landing by his feet. He closed his eyes, listening to the stunned silence.
"We were chasing after a dream, and now, we're chasing after a Templar," May said, "Or not, maybe not a Templar. Something much worse, something much more powerful, something you've never seen before," May stood and walked to him, then basked in his red fury unafraid, "Are you willing to let a monster like that get away with it? Let him be and watch as he destroys both the assassins and the Templars?"
Jacob said nothing.
"This is not our war alone, Jacob. Will is planning to take over both factions, and if you do nothing, no one will. Don't you care about London?"
"I do care, or else I wouldn't even be an assassin."
"Then forget the gauntlet, whether it exists or not, and set your sights on ending this madman."
He looked at her, pain wrinkling the corners of his eyes. Words won't come out of his mouth, but May knew what he was thinking.
"Look, I know what you feel… about him," May said, Jacob winced, and tried to look away, but she held his gaze, "I felt it, once, or maybe almost. But believe me, he's not worthy of anyone's love. And you need to remember that."
He nodded slowly.
"I need you to be ready, we're planning to kill two Templars. A woman I once considered a sister, and a man you once considered… yours."
The hatch to the roof was dangling there, swinging by a breeze coming from the open window. A simple guest room was behind May, containing a bare bed and a candlestick stuck to the ground.
Calvin was busy fetching coal for the fireplace. Agnes was asking about Bertha, after she put her in allied hands. May spent the entire week sleeping and listening to Jacob's mutterings when she was momentarily awake. She could raise her arms now, and could stand without needing a bucket next to the bed.
And now, she wanted to climb up to sit by Jacob. There was nothing else to do, no one else to talk to. And she never felt so useless in her entire life.
She pulled down the tiny ladder and climbed to the top.
The wind nearly blew her off the roof. It billowed in her shirt and made her coattails whip about. Jacob turned, sensing a presence like a hungry cat. He raised a brow and kept staring.
May scuffled to him, then looked at the height. It wasn't too much, two storeys and a flat roof that ended in a sloping edge. His legs rested against the slope. He looked right at home.
"It's windy." She said.
"You don't say?"
"What are you doing up here?"
He sighed. A sudden wind blew rippled through his short hair, "I'm just… thinking. It's too stuffy and dusty to think down there. It was great, once, maybe it isn't because there were no cobwebs. Maybe human presence made it feel more… welcoming."
May lowered herself next to him, drawing her legs close to her chest, "Reminiscing, are we?"
"Not really. It's just…" He looked at her, trying to find words, "If Evie was here, she would've known what to do. Or better yet, see it coming a mile away."
"Maybe you shouldn't praise your sister that much. She might be older, but you're just as great."
He smiled, "You don't know her. She's a pain in the side, that one, but I can't imagine a world without her in it."
"Yet she's not in London, but you managed to keep the city standing for at least seven years." She nudged him with her shoulder.
"I suppose not for long."
It had rained once that week, but May missed it. She watched the aftermath. The birch trees that lined the street across dripped water that glimmered momentarily as they fell. She watched as the ground reflected the glowing lanterns latched to the many carriages passing by. Wagons of badly-covered coal and some of freshly-manufactured soap, also covered with a loose tarp, some pieces had fell from the box at some point and began seeping lather on the street, filling the air with citrus and lavender.
They watched the sunset in silence, and watched as groups of people switched from laborer to pub-goers and prostitutes. When you're high off the ground, no one really looks up, no one knows you're staring. It's both empowering and uncomfortable.
"Have you ever…" Jacob broke the long silence, "thought about death?"
May scowled, "Yes, more times than I can count."
"I haven't, not really. Not thoroughly, at least. And now that someone who knows everything has turned on me, I find that…" He sighed, "That I'm not immortal. That I could die any moment. I never really thought about it. One bullet could end me, one stab, one push, just one. That's all it takes."
"What is this coming from?"
"I saw you die, May. I held you in my arms, stopping several wounds from bleeding, trying to stop a carriage and convince the driver to take a handful of bloody shillings. I almost lost hope, almost laid on the ground and watched helplessly… I couldn't-"
She touched his arm, "But I'm alive. That means you haven't lost hope."
"Yes, but-"
"I owe you my life, Jacob."
"No, you repaid me many times before."
"Perhaps, but I'm thankful. And I need to repay you for it."
Jacob raised a brow, then put a finger on his lips like a child thinking about Christmas toys, "Okay, I want three pints of bitter, a new brown coat. Hmm, let's see. Oh! I lost the vial of gun oil, I'd love some of that."
May smiled, "Done, anything else?"
"I want books on fighting, one jeweled knuckle, a carriage…"
May snickered, "I don't think I can afford that much."
Jacob chuckled, he looked at her, watching the wind blowing locks of hair from her face.
"I'm kidding. I don't want any of that. But you know what I really want?"
Jacob wrapped his arms around her and drew her close, he melted against her, with his head resting on her shoulder and his whole weight pressing against her body. Embracing Jacob, really pressing close to him, was not like embracing Will, all fluttery heartbeat and tingly fingers. It was different, like sunshine breaching the clouds, a lone star in an empty sky, one drop of gold in an ocean of water. It felt like hope. Warmth. Glee. Startlingly tangible and beautifully overpowering. Both of them needed saving from falling out, and they found no one to cling to except each other.
His fingers dug into her back, "May..."
May held him closer, "I know, Jacob. I know."
He breathed in the smell of her hair, "I'm glad that you do."
Then he leaned back, and in one swoop, captured her lips in his.
Kind of fluffy, but you guys needed a breather before the shitstorm. :)