Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. Still not feeling great. Let me know what you think.

Chapter 28: Grief and Memories

Davy woke up late in the morning. He hadn't slept very well the night before consoling Willow. When he finally had fallen asleep, it had been around 4 am. When he woke, Willow wasn't there. He wasn't sure where she'd gone, so he went into the kitchen to make coffee, figuring she would be there. He got a little worried when she wasn't, but then he heard sounds coming from the basement. Daryl had given them a tour the night before after dinner and had shown them the basement he converted into a gym so he could train.

Davy made his way down to the basement and found Willow. She was wearing shorts and a tank top and was beating the tar out of a practice dummy. The floor was covered with blue mats to cushion a fall and there were several practice dummies. They were in the shape of a man with only a torso and a head. There was a rack of weights against one wall and a treadmill against another. The third wall across from the entrance was lined with swords, guns and knives. Davy watched Willow for a moment and admired how much grace she had despite the anger etched on her face. With one final loud grunt, she hit the dummy so hard, it snapped off it's pedestal and crashed to the ground.

"Well, I guess he's dead," Davy said.

"Guess I was a little hard on him," Willow said taking a bottled water and drinking it.

"I think that's understandable," Davy said. "You're angry. Rightfully so."

"I am," Willow said. "I'm pissed they killed my father, but I'm also pissed that I'm not doing anything about it."

"You need time to grieve," Davy said.

"That's useless," Willow said sitting on a bench.

"No, it's not," Davy said sitting next to her. "You would be useless if you went out and started fighting everyone while in a grieving state. You'd get yourself killed cause you wouldn't be up to par. Instead you're taking the time you need to get your head back. When I was a kid, my parents were killed in a car crash. The other guy was drunk and barely hurt. My grandfather was really angry, but he didn't want me to be. He taught me to mourn them, but I needed to keep going with my life. When I grew up, I missed them every day, but I wasn't all that angry. Not until a bunch of my classmates started going out to drink at night and drive home. But I took that anger and did something. I got pictures of my parents and of the wreckage of their car and posted them all over school to give a face to drinking and driving."

"Did it work?" Willow asked.

"Yes," Davy said. "They still drank, but they made sure they had designated drivers."

"You did something with your anger," Willow said.

"It didn't happen right away," Davy said. "I grieved first. I wouldn't have been as productive if I hadn't properly grieved. I probably would have just yelled at them or something. You are grieving, too. You have to grieve."

"But I want to make sure he didn't die in vain," Willow said.

"He wouldn't want you to rush this," Davy said.

"I can still be useful," Willow said finally smiling. "I may not be able to face the world and talk to the people who saw them last without breaking down, but I can finish training you."

"Willow-" Davy started but she cut him off.

"No, I'm ok," Willow said. "I swear. I need to feel useful. When we do find your friends, you're gonna need to be ready to take the Templars on. Otherwise you'll die. And I don't want another death to grieve over. I need to make sure you're ready."

"Ok," Davy said returning her smile.

"Just know it's not going to be easy," Willow said.

"It wasn't easy before?" Davy laughed.

"It's going to get a lot harder," Willow said. "We're one man down. I need to really push you this time. Can you handle that?"

"I need to save my friends," Davy said sternly. "As long as you don't kill me."

"I won't kill you," Willow laughed. It was good to see her laugh again. Channeling her grief and anger into training him to take on evil forces might be what she needed. And he needed to save his friends. "But it will hurt a lot."


Micky felt a pull at the back of his head. For a second, he was confused and didn't know where he was or what was going on, but then it came back and he opened his eyes. He was still naked under the sheet, but the pain he'd felt before had subsided. It was still there, but it was much more manageable. He could breath and he could feel the sheets scratching at his skin. Before it had felt like the sheets were made of glass and that a large elephant was laying on top of his whole body. He felt Ginny's head resting gently on his chest near his wounds. He didn't have to look at her to know she was clinging to him for fear of losing him. Micky moved slightly to try and get a look at Mike and Rose just to ensure they were ok. His movements alerted Ginny and she sat up to look at him.

"Don't move too fast," she said. Micky looked over to the next bed to see Mike and Rose sitting there looking at him. They seemed a little more relaxed than they had before. They smiled at him when they realized he was awake.

"Hey, Micky," Mike said softly. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah," Micky answered. "Much. Still in a little pain, but it's better. A lot better."

"Good," Rose said. "I was worried about that morphine."

"How long was I out?" Micky asked.

"All day," Ginny said. "Your body is dealing with a lot of stuff right now. You need the sleep."

"Yeah, I guess," Micky said. "Rose, when you were looking for Robert, did you look for Meg?"

"I did a little," Rose said. "Everything I was getting was suggesting that she was out of the country and I was more focused on Robert and Ginny. They were priorities."

"Of course," Micky said. "Did you get any information about what she was doing? Can we trust her?"

"I didn't hear much," Rose said. "I don't know if we can trust her or not myself."

"I think we can," Mike said. "She gave you morphine to help you. If she didn't care, she wouldn't have done that. If Robert finds out, he's gonna have a fit. She risked a lot to get you that."

"Then maybe we can use her to get out of here," Micky said.

"I agree that she can help," Mike said. "But she's not going to be able to let us escape. But for now, we can trust her and rely on her to keep bringing you medicine. Robert isn't done with you."

"I know," Micky sighed. "It's gonna get worse from here. I don't know how it can, but I know it will."

"We'll figure something out," Ginny said. "But we shouldn't trust her wholeheartedly. She's still a templar. They come before us. She'd kill us in a heartbeat if it meant saving her cause. She just might call it a justifiable sacrifice."

"Right," Micky said. "Can I get my clothes back now?"

"Yeah, sorry," Rose said as Mike walked to the bathroom to get Micky's clothes. "We didn't want to disturb you when they dried, so we just left you alone."

"That's fine," Micky said. Mike came back out of the bathroom rubbing his head with one hand and carrying Micky's clothes with the other.

"You ok?" Rose asked.

"Yeah, just another headache," Mike answered.

"It's been awhile since you went into your ancestor's memories," Ginny said taking the clothes from him. "You should probably try another session."

"I'm not sure now's such a good time for that," Rose said.

"Actually, I think now might be the best time for that," Micky said. "Robert knows he can't do more to me right now without risk of killing me, so we'll have privacy for awhile."

"It'll be ok, Rose," Mike said. "Ginny's right. This headache is only gonna get worse."

"Ok, but I want to put my pants on first," Micky said.

"Oh, right, sorry," Ginny said. It was clear she'd forgotten she was holding onto his pants. Micky knew he wouldn't be able to dress himself; he felt incredibly weak. Every movement felt labored. Rose and Mike turned away to afford him some privacy while Ginny helped him put his clothes on. Micky respected that Mike and Rose gave him the privacy, even though it was clear they'd seen him after his seizure.

"I think it's best if you leave the shirt off for now until your wounds heal," she said once his pants were on. "I need to change the bandages soon anyway."

"Ok," Micky said. He felt tired again. He wasn't sure why, since he'd slept most of the day already. Ginny grabbed a pillow off a nearby bed and put it between his head and the wall so he could sit up and lean against the wall in semi-comfort. The pillows weren't exactly all that great, but it was better than leaning on the hard, cold wall.

"I'll be right back," Ginny said before walking over to the next bed as Mike made himself as comfortable as he could.

"You sure about this?" Rose asked Mike sitting next to him.

"Yes, nothing happened to me last time," Mike assured her. "I'll be fine. If I don't, I'm gonna have a headache from hell and I won't be any good to any of you."

"Ok, remember, just relax," Ginny said. She talked to him quietly to ease him into the memory. After a few moments, Mike's body went limp and Ginny assured them that he was fine. Now they'd just wait for him to wake up and finish the memory. Rose curled up next to Mike, resting her head on his chest. Mike could see in her face she was just listening to his breathing and his heartbeat hoping there wouldn't be a change. Ginny came back over and sat next to Micky. She lifted a glass of water nearby and gave it to him.


Mike was in George's body again. This time he was sitting at a large wooden desk in a small room. The walls were wood and the only light coming through was a candlelit lantern. George was writing in a notebook with a quill. A knock sounded on the door and George looked up to see a petite, dark skinned woman enter. She bowed softly and smiled at him.

"Sorry to bother you, Sir, but there is a woman here to see you," she said. "She says her name is Samantha."

"Yes, of course," George smiled closing the book and standing up. "Send her in." The woman bowed out and returned a moment later with the woman George saved from the Templars a few days ago. The woman turned to Samantha and smiled. "Would you like some tea?"

"No, thank you," Samantha said.

"And you, sir?" The woman asked.

"No, thank you," George said. "You may go."

"Interesting," Samantha said when the woman turned and left.

"What is?" George asked.

"Her," Samantha said. "I've seen many of her kind smile, but none that actually mean it. You take care of her."

"Why shouldn't I?" George asked.

"Because she's colored," Samantha said.

"I have no reason to judge her," George said. "I know many of my peers see her as a lesser being and treat her as such, but I see no reason for that. The word of God is clear. We are all His angels."

"Is she free?"

"Not quite. I wanted to pay for her freedom. An associate of mine near Havana liberated her from a slave ship. Ah Tabai took most of them to find them new homes and buy their freedom, but she refused. She had told us her previous owner was a man who used her like cattle. He would breed her and sell her children when they became old enough to work. She does not want her freedom until her freedom can be purchased for her children. I've tracked down most of them and paid for most of them to be freed, but a few still elude my grasp. But you did not come here to discuss my housekeeper."

"No. My brother told me what you wanted."

"Only to protect you. Not exploit you. I promise."

"How can I be sure of that?"

"I have no need to. Father Daniel told me your father was an Assassin. As was your husband?"

"Yes."

"So you know the Templars seek ancient artifacts to gain power. They would use you to find them. I have no need for them. I only wish to keep the Templars from finding them."

"The allure of Power corrupts every man."

"Only those who have it and wish to seek more."

"And how would you protect me from them?"

"It was my intention to take you as a student; keep you by my side."

"You assumed I was a man?"

"My apologies, but yes, I did. Stereotypes got the best of me."

"So you don't think a woman is any less powerful than a man?"

"Men have more strength of body, but I find a woman often has more strength of mind and will. Women endure more physical pain than man, I have seen numerous childbirths, and women are more cunning."

"We can have strength of body if we want to."

"Yes, but it is not very common."

"No, it isn't. It isn't considered ladylike to be strong. Stay in the kitchen and clean the house, that's a woman's job."

"In the opinions of some. But as I said, a woman can be much more cunning than a man. There have been numerous female Assassins."

"So my father told me. He taught me to be both an Assassin and a housewife. Said the choice was mine. My husband told me I could be both."

"But you aren't? I see no marks."

"I never took the initiation to brand the finger as you and the others did. I chose not to. I did not want to be an official Assassin. I saw what it did to my mother, my aunt, and grandmother. I wanted to raise a family in peace. I didn't want to subject any children I had to violence."

"I understand that."

"So what do you say now? Now that you know I am a woman?"

"I still would like to keep you close."

"For how long?"

"As long as it takes or as long as you feel necessary. I wouldn't want to force anything on you."

"Until you win the war."

"The war," George sighed sinking back into his chair. He spoke with a strained and tired voice now. "If I have learned one thing in this life, it is that the war between Templars and Assassins will never be won. It has been fought for centuries and will be fought for centuries more. As you said, Power corrupts and as long as there are men who seek power, there will be Templars. Men who are corrupted by Power. It is a part of life."

"I love Father Daniel. He has been like a brother to me. Accepted me as his own, even though I only married into his family. He has taken care of me, even after his brother's death. But he never wanted to be an Assassin. His brother was taken in by my family. They weren't born into the life as I was. Their parents were murdered by Templars simply for being in the wrong place and seeing something they shouldn't. My husband chose to make the world a better place through the work of the Assassin's while his brother chose to do so through the work of God. I can't ask Daniel to give up his choice to continue to protect me. I can't ask him to bring violence into his church because the Templars want me dead. But if I stay in his care, that is exactly what I will be doing. And I cannot live on my own with the way our society looks at a single woman. But you stand here offering to take me in for no reason. You don't know me and yet you want to protect me. I know that is what Assassins do, but I still can't help but feel cautious."

"I understand that caution. And I respect it. You do not have to agree to my help and if you do, you can stay as long as you wish. I promise you that."

"I believe you. I see the honesty in how you treat a woman whom the rest of society deems as subhuman. You free slaves instead of oppressing them. But how would you explain me to others? You can't use the pupil excuse now that I'm a woman."

"No, I can't."

"You can claim I am a relative seeking a new home and a fresh start after the death of her husband while expecting her first child."

"Child? Are you with child? I thought your husband died a year ago."

"He did." Samantha was now speaking with a certain sadness. "The child is not his. I do not know whose it is and I have not told Daniel. A few months ago the Templars did find me and took me. I now know all too well what lengths they'll go to in order to get what they want."

"I am so sorry. Do you know who they are?"

"They are dead. I killed them and escaped. There was one opening when one of them was dumb enough to leave a knife close enough to me to reach. There were only two of them. I was able to get the drop on them due to surprise and my father's teachings."

"Impressive."

"I don't want Daniel to find out. He'd be devastated."

"And how will you explain a child to him?"

"I haven't figured that out yet."

"Very well. Shall we go and collect your things?"

"I'm afraid I travel lightly and I've already what little I own with me." Samantha walked out for a moment to retrieve a small bag. George smiled. She must have already made up her mind before even speaking to him.

"I see. Well, I can supply you with anything else you need."