A/N: Tis time for the angsty accompaniment! Ryan's chapter is a lot shorter, and I do my best to portray his and Makin's grief. I hope I did a good enough job. Enjoy! Chapter 38: Unforgotten

Silence had long since fallen over the Bureau in Acre, leaving its occupants in the storm of emotion and thought that plagued them. Ryan wondered briefly when they'd be leaving; there was no point in staying longer. Still, he didn't really care. He couldn't care about anything now.

Makin's hand rested on his, and the two boys leaned against the cold wall in the quiet of the evening, trying not to think about the things that had occurred. Rashid was talking with the rafiq, his low murmured tones making it impossible to hear the words. It no doubt had to do with their travel plans, not that any of that mattered. We could be jumping into the sun for all I care.

The murmuring stopped, and the assassin made his way back to his two charges, his face forcibly blank. "We have worked out a plan," He said. Ryan sat up, trying to look interested. "The shopkeeper sent messages to the other cities where the groups have traveled. Nadir and Abbas will probably meet us on the road if we leave early tomorrow, so we shall travel as a group back to Masyaf. We will need to wake up at dawn, so try and get some rest." Makin nodded, muttering his assent, and Ryan sighed.

Sleep? How am I supposed to sleep? It wasn't even something he could think about, not when his world was in pieces and his sister's sword lay, ownerless, next to her torn scarf. He felt angry. Irrationally angry. Sleep, he says. What a stupid thing to suggest.

What a stupid thing.

He kept his thoughts to himself though, and Rashid didn't seem to expect an answer from him. The older man gestured for them to follow, leading them out to the foyer where a small table had been set up. There were cushions in the corner, and an extra set had been put next to the original so that two beds were available for them, instead of one. Long shadows were cast by the setting sun, so a lantern in the middle of the table burned brightly.

Sitting on the table were three plates of food, each containing a casserole-like dish with bread on the side, a pitcher of water in the middle. Ryan stared at his plate dispassionately, only sitting down next to it when Makin squeezed his hand, urging him to do so. He knew he had to eat, but the gnawing hole in his chest didn't leave room for much else. He wasn't hungry, not in the slightest. Looking at the food made him nauseous.

His two companions started in on it ravenously, so he settled for pouring himself a glass of water, sipping it slowly as he watched Makin chew on the tough bread. The boy hadn't let go of Ryan's hand, and it made Ryan wonder what it was that made him so clingy all of a sudden. Then he supposed it wasn't surprising; everyone reacted to grief differently. At least Makin still acted like a normal person. He ate. Cried. Felt. All Ryan could feel was exhaustion. He picked up his cutlery in resignation, forcing himself to take a few bites of the meal before him. Rashid glanced over and gave him a small, encouraging smile. No one spoke.

Ryan drank until the pitcher was empty.

Rashid got up from his position, strolling through the entryway back into the Bureau. Makin shifted beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder and making him jump. "Hey, so…" The other boy looked awkward and flushed, and Ryan paused mid-gulp. "I just thought...thought that maybe me hugging you and...all of that, might have made you uncomfortable. I...uh...apologize." He turned even redder and looked away, moving to pull his hand from Ryan's grasp.

He looked so...soft and vulnerable. Ryan held his hand firmly, shaking his head. "If I minded, I would've said something," He whispered, his first words since leaving the Camp. Makin blinked, as though not expecting the younger boy to speak. Then he smiled.

"Oh...ok."

The two of them sat comfortably until Rashid returned, Makin not fidgeting nearly as much as he had before. Their plates were cleared by the kind-faced rafiq, who patted Ryan's shoulder sympathetically before returning to his post, and they helped move the table back to the corner where it originated. The pillows in the corner looked soft enough, but the last thing Ryan wanted to do was sleep. So he sat next to the wall again, watching as Rashid and Makin got settled. Rashid raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything.

The shadows lengthened, until eventually, the only light that shone was from the lantern he'd kept lit, flickering next to him like his own little wavering sun. Small snores came from the older man, which Ryan found amusing. Who knew assassins did that; I thought they'd be, like, trained not to or something. Then again, there were only so many bodily functions one could control.

It was completely dark now, and the myriad of constellations above him almost made his insomnia worth it. God, how pretty, We'd never see anything like that near New York. It almost startled him to realize that he didn't really think of the future as home anymore. It seemed too loud, too busy, full of distractions and poisonous advertisements from corrupt, powerful corporations. Compared to all that, this life was...peaceful.

I wish I could take a picture, though, to show Kaylyn, he thought this absentmindedly, then a horrible pang of realization gripped his heart, squeezing it. Oh yeah...right...

"Rye-an?" He jumped as Makin's sleepy murmur reached his ears. It was soft, but in the silence it sounded deafening. "You gonna sleep?"

Ryan shrugged, reaching up to wipe away the tears that formed in his eyes. "I...don't think I can."

"You should try, though. Come here." Makin reached out an arm, gesturing for the younger boy to join him. Ryan sighed, but supposed he was right. He got up from his position, careful to be quiet in case Rashid woke up, and climbed into the mass of pillows that made up their bed. Makin's arm rested lazily over his waist and he sniffed, snuggling closer and pressing his face into the older boy's robes. Ryan was grateful that this culture didn't seem as weird about physical affection, at least between two guys. He didn't think he could stand it if he had to sleep alone.

Despite his earlier misgivings, he felt his eyes drift shut in the comfortable warmth that enveloped him, and soon he was asleep.


Ryan woke with a start when cold air hit him, an empty spot next to his side. He looked up groggily and saw Makin staring at him, frozen in place with a tense expression. From the soft snores to his right, it seemed Rashid was still asleep. He was surprised that anything got past the older man. In fact, he was pretty sure that Rashid slept with one eye open.

But there he was. Asleep and unaware that his pupil was sneaking out.

Ryan raised his eyebrows in a questioning look and Makin responded with a finger to his mouth to shush him. He continued toward the exit, moving to climb out, and in a split second decision, Ryan followed him.

It was difficult. Ryan wasn't anywhere close to athletic, having only jogged once or twice in the entire 14 years he'd been on this earth.

He most definitely wasn't a natural climber either. He found himself stumbling a couple times and felt nervous that Rashid would wake up and catch him mid-escape. At the last moment, just before he slipped, a hand grabbed his arm and heaved him up. Thank God for Makin and his training.

Ryan nodded in thanks, still not daring to talk when they were still in the vicinity of the sleeping assassin. When the two of them were safely on the roof, sitting on the far end away from their friend, they finally let out their breaths. Ryan was the first to speak.

"Thanks for that." He said softly.

"It wasn't my intention to wake you." Makin's eyes held a regret in them, but Ryan quickly waved it off, grabbing the other boy's hand and holding it tightly.

"I would hardly think so. It's fine, I don't mind." They sat in silence for a while, each exhale creating little puffs of fog in front of them as they stared at the star-lined sky. Neither spoke for a long while, caught up in the beauty around them and the darkness of their thoughts, trying to come to terms with their new reality.

Makin turned to Ryan abruptly, a sadness in his eyes so deep that they were impossible to look at directly. Ryan looked away. "I…I cared for her, Rye-an. I still do, I…"

"I know. It's okay, I approved."

"Did you?" There was that vulnerable look again. It was almost exhausting, how much Makin cared, when his own heart was consumed with such bitter indifference. Still, Makin helped to soften it, and Ryan was grateful.

"Of course. She liked you too, you know. She was planning on telling you." The words hurt to say, but they were too important to keep to himself. Beside him, Makin's breath hitched, and he turned away hurriedly as though to hide his tears. Ryan scooted closer, leaning on his shoulder with a hum of reassurance.

"I wish...I wish…" Makin choked, unable to finish.

Ryan grimaced, and his voice came out harsher than intended. "There's no point in wishing," He muttered bitterly. Makin's head turned, looking down at his young friend, but he said nothing. He couldn't say anything anyway.

Nothing would bring her back.

The silence between them stretched on, lasting for seconds, then minutes. Ryan wasn't sure how long they sat there, above the silent city. He blinked slowly, the cool breeze the only thing standing between him and sleep. Makin yawned and stretched. "We should go back inside." Ryan sighed, tightening his grip.

"Uh-uh."

"Rye-an."

"..." Ryan shook his head, burying it in Makin's shoulder.

Makin let out a snort of laughter, ruffling his hair. "You will be much more comfortable inside, Rye-an."

"...ugh…" I don't wanna…

Makin shifted away from him, prying Ryan's arms off of himself. Ryan whined in protest, blinking up at him in annoyance. "Come now," The older boy murmured, amusement in his tone. "You may have the extra pillow."

"...alright."

The two of them got up, older leading the younger on the easiest path back into the building. Ryan didn't know how, but he felt...better than he had. The numbness was still there, but it wasn't quite as overwhelming as before. I just don't know what I'll do when Makin isn't there. The thought made him cringe, squeezing himself closer to the sleeping figure next to him. Makin didn't wake, but a tired arm encircled his, and Ryan thought he could see a small smile before the other boy drifted off.


The sun shone brightly the next morning, and the three of them squinted as they readied the horses they'd left at the stables. They weren't carrying many possessions, so it wasn't long until the saddles were packed and prepared. The rafiq had come out to help, speaking with Rashid in whispered tones. They always seem to do that. I wonder what's so important.

Then the black-robed man approached him, a leather sheath in his hand.

"You are Rye-an, yes?" He asked softly. Ryan nodded. The rafiq held out his bundle solemnly and said, "For the sword, so you may carry it and remember her."

Ryan gaped, words leaving him as he studied the fine material. When did...slowly, he took his gift from the other man's arms, wrapping the belt around his waist and cinching it. His breath caught in his throat, and all he managed to say was, "T-thank you."

The kind man smiled and bowed slightly before making his way back down the main road. Ryan looked over at Rashid, and noticed he was smiling, Kaylyn's sword in hand.

Kaylyn's sword.

It fit perfectly into the sheath. Must've been molded, Ryan thought, and smiled. He didn't know why the rafiq would do that for him, but he was grateful nonetheless.

"Come," Rashid said softly, "Let us depart. Abbas and Nadir should meet us."

So they mounted their horses, Ryan patting Aaliyah firmly as the horse knickered at him. Compared to everything that had happened, his fear of horses seemed so trivial as to be completely ridiculous. Aaliyah had been nothing but gentle and kind, and Ryan knew he'd miss her once they got back to Masyaf.

Leaving the city gates was a lot easier than entering them, since the guards cared a lot more about people coming in then going out; all they did was give the three a lazy nod before returning to their small talk. There was a hefty wind that morning, enough that every little bit of sand kicked up by the horses' hooves inevitably blew into their faces. Ryan coughed and spit, eyes squinting against the miniscule grains that got stuck there. Makin and Rashid were more used to it, but even they seemed to have some trouble.

They trekked for hours in silence, only pausing once to nibble on the bread stored in small pouches, hanging off the saddles in sad clumps. Every inch of it was covered in sand, of course. Kaylyn would've hated it.

Ryan imagined her flailing her arms about, protesting loudly and swishing her clothes to try and get rid of it. She'd inevitably resort to some drastic, and hilarious, method of removal, like dancing. God dammit...I hate this… A wretched ache from the hole in his chest ripped through his body and Ryan gasped, gripping the front of his tunic so tightly his knuckles turned white. Aaliyah knickered at the sudden jerk of the reins, slowing down. Makin's horse bumped into her, and he jumped, startled.

"Is everything alright?" He asked in a worried tone. Ryan shook himself vigorously back to reality.

"Uh...yeah. Just got a big chunk of sand in my eye." He urged Aaliyah faster and she obeyed, falling back into perfect formation with the other horses. His eyes drifted forward again, and he noticed Rashid glancing at him suspiciously. He didn't comment though, and they continued on.

It seemed like an eternity later that they reached a crossroads. Two figures were waiting there, white hoods marking them clearly against the black manes of their mounts. Nadir was leaning solemnly against his horse's side, while Abbas seemed to be fiddling with a pouch of some kind. Both jerked up, alert, as the other group approached.

"Hello, Father," Rashid spoke first, swinging down from his saddle with practiced ease, "How fared the journey?"

Nadir smiled, glad to be with his son again. "It was rough, but we managed just fine." He looked over at his companion, who sighed and glared grumpily. "Abbas had some...difficulties with the rations, though. I think he's been guarding those gates too long; he has gotten very used to the castle's comforts."

There was amusement in his tone. Abbas shook his head and muttered, "Whatever you say, old man." He held the air of someone very sick of arguing, and there were dark circles under his eyes. Ryan guessed that Nadir was probably right.

His adopted father eyed them curiously once the three were on the ground. He opened his mouth, and the words that came out nearly made Ryan's heart stop. "Where is Kay-lin? When I got the message of your return, I assumed she'd be with you."

Ryan felt himself pale, and he reached out to steady himself on Aaliyah's side. Beside him, Makin hissed, and Rashid looked very alarmed. "I…" The son struggled to speak, gazing at his father with an expression somewhere between incredulity and pain. "I thought...the messenger would have told you…"

Ryan's vision wavered, and he sunk to his knees. Fuck, fuck, FUCK- His breaths were coming short again, and only Makin's hand on his back kept him from the same spiral of panic he'd felt in Garnier's camp.

No one spoke for a good few seconds. Then…

"I don't understand. Is she…" Abbas ended his phrase in a question he couldn't seem to finish. His expression was one of horror.

Ryan flinched. He knew no one else was going to, so he said, "She's dead." His voice was hoarse, and the second he spoke, he could hear sharp intakes of breath around him.

"Fuck." Abbas hissed with a dangerous expression, "Who…"

"They are taken care of, Abbas," Rashid reassured him, putting his hands up to calm the other man. Abbas shook his head, sitting with a thump on a nearby rock. Nadir had his screwed shut, swaying where he stood. Ryan looked away. He had no need for vicarious grief, not when his sister's face was burned so thoroughly into his brain.

Minutes passed where no one dared make a sound. They sat together in silence, each contemplating the reality in front of them. Nadir crouched down next to him, reaching out to the young man.

"Rye-an? I'm sorry…" He said. Ryan sniffed and looked away. Still, he didn't resist the warm hand that encircled his.

A/N: And there we have it! I considered writing a campfire scene with all of them together, drunk and discussing Kaylyn, but ended up cutting it out since I thought it might have been a bit much. Let me know if you want it back in!