When I awaken, I am curled beneath blankets in a bed. I do not have to open my eyes to tell where I am. The faint movement of the train around me is nearly enough to make me cry. I am home, and I am safe. Thomas is dead. It's over. I slowly roll over to find Jacob sleeping in the armchair across from the bed. He looks… different. His hair is longer, his facial hair has grown in. He looks tired.

Somebody bridging the gap between train cars draws my attention. It is Evie, carrying a tray. She sees that I am awake and crosses to my bed, sitting beside me. She looks over at Jacob.

"This is the first time he's truly slept since you disappeared."

A small, black ball of fur stirs from where he was resting at my feet. Poe makes his way over the mountain of blankets to Evie and me, curling up between us. I move to pet him, but I find myself unable to move.

"How long have I been gone?"

"Forty three days. It's a miracle you survived, Jessamine, truly."

"How — how bad is it?"

Evie lays a hand on my shoulder, "You have suffered bruising and lacerations over most of your body and likely some fracturing, as well, but nothing appears to be broken. Your body hasn't healed as quickly as it could have with the lack of nutrients."

"I understand."

"We are going to try our very best to get you back into fighting shape. I've brought you some salted broth, it's all your stomach will be able to handle at the moment."

"I understand."

She sits me up in bed, resting my aching body against the pillows. I am too weak to move, covered in bandages. I am cloaked in a large white shirt.

"I apologize for dressing you in Jacob's shirt, there are lots of bandages to change and I needed something loose that would still protect your modesty."

"I understand."

She raises a cup of water to my lips. I drink. It is gone in three swallows. With Thomas, my water was gone in two.

"May I have some more water?"

Evie smiles sadly, "Unfortunately, we cannot risk any regurgitation. We have to build up your digestive system."

"I understand."

She brings the spoon of salted broth to my lips, and I sip. It is warm and flavorful, much better than the stale bread I have subsisted on. Again, the dish is small. It is gone much sooner than I would have liked.

"Get some rest. I'll be back soon."

She leaves, taking the tray with her. Poe curls into my chest. I can hear his gentle purrs. I watch Jacob sleep. He looks so peaceful. I have missed him very much, I have missed everyone. I cannot believe Thomas was able to convince me that I hated him, that I did not believe in the Brotherhood. My Jacob. How could I ever hate the man before me? He stirs in his chair. His gaze meets mine. We look at each other for a long moment before he breaks the silence.

"How are you feeling?"

"I have had better days, in truth."

We laugh, but a sharp throb cuts me off with a pained gasp. Jacob is by my side in a flash. Poe, spooked, quickly retreats to the end of the bed as I squeeze my eyes shut and take deep breaths to force the ache away. He strokes my hair until I open my eyes again.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Stay with me?"

"Trust me, I'm not going anywhere."

I can tell that he is afraid to touch me as he climbs beneath the sheets. Regardless, I am content to simply lay beside him and bask in his protective warmth.

"Try to sleep, it will help you heal."

"Please do not leave me."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Jacob, Henry does not let me do anything except for lay at home. I need to get out!"

"This is my niece or nephew we're talking about here, Evie. I will not compromise the safety of you or your child. Let me handle this."

"You mustn't leave Jessamine. She needs you."

"You know this is what she would want. She would want you to be safe. You know that I should go."

"Let me go, damn it!" Evie cries, genuine desperation in her voice.

There is silence for a moment, the train softly chugging along beneath us.

"Listen to me," Jacob says, his voice full of quiet intensity, "you are going to be a mother. You have to put your child first. If this were to go wrong, if something were to happen to you or the baby, I could never forgive myself. Henry would be heartbroken. You have to put motherhood first, now, Evie. You know I'm right."

There is another silence. Evie sniffs, presumably wiping away tears.

"Go, then. Go. But if you don't come back, I swear to God, I'll kill you."

"I'll already be dead. Goodbye, sister mine. I'll be back soon. Keep her safe."

There is the sound of Jacob's receding boots and a heavy sigh from Evie before I hear her collapse into the armchair.

"How much of that did you hear, Jessa?"

"Enough." I respond, opening my eyes and looking over at her.

She smiles sadly, a hand resting on her blossoming stomach.

"What has happened? Where is he going?"

"Cleaning up the remains of yesterday's epic battle."

"What does that entail, exactly?"

"There are survivors. It's best to establish new leadership and stomp out the old before they regain strength. Jacob must give them a choice."

"Join or die." I murmur.

Evie nods, "Luckily, without their fearless leader, the threat is minimal."

I am instantly transported to the feeling of Thomas's blood spraying over my face. I shut my eyes and try to push the feeling away.

"Jacob shouldn't have any trouble dealing with them. He should be back in a few hours."

"He said he wouldn't leave me."

"He hasn't left you, love. He's protecting you at this very moment. I've brought your dinner."

Evie brings me a tray with the same meal as earlier, broth and water. I finish it rather quickly. I am hungry for more, but I know what her answer will be.

"Evie, how did you find me?"

"It took us much longer than we hoped it would. Thomas… He was smart. His stronghold was in a perfect location. Hidden in plain sight. They were in a dockyard on the Thames, the same pier where he asked you to meet him. Charing Cross."

The carriage I was thrown into… It was all a ruse. I was at the stronghold in the first place.

"We searched the city for several weeks. Jacob grew more and more anxious. He stopped sleeping, stopped eating. Finding you… It consumed him. He vowed to burn the city down if that was what it took. He tore apart every building in London during the day. Took to the sewers, the shores of the Thames, trains, ships. He prowled the streets at night, snatching any Ace he could find and interrogating them about the stronghold. When they didn't confess, he ended them. His body count climbed to over fifty deaths a night, at least. Scotland Yard usually looks the other way when it comes to the Assassins, but Jacob nearly… Henry and I tried all that we could to reason with him, but there was nothing to be done."

That would explain his haggard appearance and unshaven face. Oh, Jacob.

"I must admit, I began to lose hope. I — I thought you were dead. But Jacob refused to give up on you. It was only after six weeks of running himself ragged that he returned to the pier to look for any clues we may have missed. He found the location of the stronghold by mistake. It was within what we thought was a steelworks that we discovered an intricate underground lair, and we gathered the entire strength of the Brotherhood behind us before we raided it. Well, they raided it. The men wouldn't let me take part."

"Well, you are pregnant."

"Damn it all to hell, I know I'm pregnant. That doesn't mean I'm a china doll!"

She heaves a sigh, tears welling up in her eyes.

"But your child is, Evie. A life is within you. Until it is born, the responsibility falls to you — and only you — to protect it. Your line of work is dangerous. The most dangerous work I've ever known. Jacob and Henry… They love you. They want what is best for you, what's best for that child. And it is hard, I know it is, to sit idly by and feel useless. But you have the most important job of all."

Her eyes well with tears before she pulls me in for a hug.

"Oh, ow!"

"Oh God, sorry, sorry."

She pulls away and wipes her eyes, "You're right. I needed to hear that, Jessamine. Thank you. It has just been so hard to feel inadequate."

"You are not!"

"I hate being left out of everything, told that I am too fragile. I have worked hard to be where I am, Jessa. To be equal to Jacob in all pursuits. Being a female assassin is difficult. I had to work twice as hard as my brother. I know that they don't mean that I am weak, I knew that from the start. I've just been lashing out. I'm afraid, Jessa, to bring a child into our world. So afraid."

"Is that why you've been so angry at them?"

"I've been bottling it up, keeping it in. I don't want Henry to think that I don't want this baby, because I do. I really do."

"Evie, you have to tell him how you feel. He's your husband. He will never stop loving you."

"I will. I just… haven't found the right time."

She smiles at me before leaning forward and patting my hand, "I need to check your wounds now, if that's all right."

"Of course."

She reaches for the first aid kit on the floor beside the bed before gently peeling the covers away from my body. The sorry excuse for a human being is hardly recognizable as my own self. I have lost a lot of weight, my skin encasing bare bones with little muscle in between. Bruises and cuts mar my skin in every place imaginable; Evie has bandaged the larger ones. I have a rather thick bandage wrapped around my upper thigh and casts round my wrists from where I was hung in the shackles.

"I know that it looks bad, but you've already gained some weight back since we found you. You're on the road to recovery!"

I cannot speak. I gaze at the damage Thomas has done to me, the pain he caused. Every time I blink, a new memory of his torture appears to be imprinted on my eyelids. The scars he inflicted… They are on the inside, too.

"Are you all right?"

Evie lays a comforting hand on mine but removes it when she doesn't get an answer. She disinfects my cuts; I may as well have bathed in the disinfectant solution. It stings. Evie peels back the bandage covering my thigh to reveal a hideous mess of scabbing and stitches that makes my stomach twist. She puts more of the disinfectant on the stitching. I bite my tongue to hold back any sound from escaping. She covers the wound and repeats the process on my back before covering me and stroking my hair.

"All better. You really are healing well. Your stomach is receiving the broth, and I suspect that tomorrow we can introduce some milk or thicker soup."

I cannot seem to remove my gaze from the covered body on the bed before me. It is mine. It is my body. Broken, battered, and bruised. But it is mine. I finally tear my eyes away from the emaciated form hidden beneath the blankets. Evie's concerned gaze meets mine.

"May I have a mirror, please?"

"Jessa, that's not a good —"

"The mirror! Please. I have to see it all. I need to see it."

She looks at me for another moment before standing. Evie makes her way to the bookshelf and picks up the hand mirror there. She brings it to me. My wrists are not strong enough yet to hold it on my own, so she does it for me. The face I see gazing back at me is almost inhuman. Prominent cheekbones. Sunken, dead eyes. Skin pale and pasty, lips cracked and swollen. Bruising along the right temple and cheek, the jaw bone. A cut along the nose. The eyes blink back at me. This face. This face cannot be mine. A tear slowly travels down its cheek.

"What did he do to me?"

"Jessamine, it's —"

"Look at me, Evie! Do I not frighten you? I look like death itself! He did this to me. He did this to me. He did this to me!"

The tears overtake me, but I am not strong enough to move. And thus I sit in bed, crying, unable to curl up and wish the hurt away. Arms around me and a soft voice in my ear ease the pain.

"You must give yourself grace," Evie soothes above me, "you have been through too much. More than any person should ever have to go through. It will take time to recover. Give yourself time to heal. Time heals all wounds."

I feel as though I am a mere shell of my former self. I cannot find a way back to who I was before. I wonder who that girl, no, woman, was. She had just begun to find the fire within her, to explore her power. What a far cry that woman is from the one on the wooden table. Thomas shredded my sense of self, corrupted who I was and what I believed. What am I left with?

How much time does it take to heal a broken soul?

FIN

here we are, the end of our story! we did it! i wrote this story years ago, it's been a pleasure to revisit old-me. i'm thinking about turning this story into a web comic to work on my graphic art skills! let me know what you think! i hope you enjoyed. i can confirm that a sequel is in the works, but who knows when it will appear. if that's something you might like to read, let me know! it's been so great to read your reviews and talk to you through pm's. i wish you all the best. xoxo