A/N: Just a quick heads up for anyone still confused, this chapter picks up almost exactly where A World on Fire left off!

Part Two

Chapter 1

"Is this really how you want to end it?"

I feel like I'm poised on the edge of a cliff, teetering between falling off or hanging on for dear life. Kenny's voice breaks through the fog of indecision in my mind easily enough, but it doesn't bring answers. It doesn't bring relief.

I don't know what to do.

I don't know whether to let go. If I should just accept my fate and allow the darkness to swallow me as I plunge into the abyss. Or cling to the edge until rescue comes. If I should fight and claw my way through this until there's nothing left.

Until there's nothing left to fight against.

For once, I find myself almost wishing he would make the choice. For once, I wish someone would sit me down and make the call themselves. For once, I wish it wasn't me.

I wish that Minerva had chosen someone, anyone else.

Please, anyone but me.

But she didn't.

So now I sit here, surrounded by all my mistakes and regrets and wishing someone could come to rescue me. That someone would come and relieve me of a burden I had never asked for. Now more than ever I wish that none of this had ever happened.

I wish I hadn't fallen in love.

"Jen."

Kenny's voice does even less now to dispel the fog. Still, my eyes go to his, searching for answers as he takes my face in his hands. They're warm against my cheeks, shockingly so as they ease the nip of the winter winds.

It's only then that I realize I'm shivering, harshly as the winds whip around us. It's late, very late. The sun has set long ago, allowing winter to truly cool the night until the wind almost burns sensitive skin. My cheeks are as numb as the tips of my fingers.

"What happened?"

His words are low, calm but strong. He expects an answer this time. He won't accept being ignored again. There's a determination in his gaze that tells me I won't get away with not answering his questions again. And there's been plenty of them.

Ever since I ran.

Fresh out of the swirl, I hadn't been thinking. Thoughts of finally curling up in my own bed after days spent traveling home from Jerusalem had been long gone by the time I'd touched down into the pillow pit. All that had been left had been the irresistible need to run, to escape. The only thing I wanted then was to leave and get as far away from the swirl, from Masyaf, from Altaïr.

I had run out of the house like I couldn't get away fast enough. Not even bothering to change into more era-appropriate clothing, I had bolted out the door. I would have kept running too. Only Kenny's long legs and quick thinking had kept me from literally running down the street.

Jumping into the swirl after me, Ken had been smart enough to snag his keys on his way out of the house as he raced to catch up to me. Stopping me just before I could clear the house's gates, he'd steered me towards his car instead.

It's how we found ourselves here, settled on the oddly black hood of Kenny's otherwise white Scion, FR-S. We're on a hill, a tall one that overlooks a freeway and the city below. The glow of houses and businesses and cars and lampposts light up the night, fighting back the darkness.

We're perched on the edge of the hill, right before the very steep, very rocky incline. We're on the 'Top of The World'. My city's tallest hill and a very popular hangout spot to sit at in the middle of the night and watch the world below. Yet, today, it's empty, deserted so there's no one to hear what I have to say.

At least no one but Ken.

"I was wrong."

He says nothing to me but lets my face go when I turn it back to look over the city. I watch as the cars whiz by, unaware that the Fabric of Time and Space had been torn open weeks ago. People continue on with their lives, uninterrupted and unburden by the choices I face.

I envy them.

"I was wrong to fall in love with him," I tell Kenny, something like regret thick in my voice. "He was never meant to be mine, Ken, but I was willing to steal him away. I was willing to condemn his future children to never being born because I was selfish enough to fall in love with him—to keep loving him even while knowing that Maria was out there waiting for him."

"You were always supposed to love him, Jen," he says, the pity in his voice plain for all to hear as he too turns to watch the city. "None of this would have worked if you didn't."

"She knew, didn't she?" I mutter, my voice low enough that the wind almost steals the words away. "Minerva knew I would fall in love with him."

"I think she was betting on it."

A soft 'hmmm' is the only answer I give him then. It's the only answer I can give. My thoughts are all over the place. They jump from Altaïr to Adha to Minerva to the swirl to questioning just what I'm doing with my life in general.

Nothing.

I'm doing nothing with it. Not school or work or even living. At least not really. Not by the terms most people my age would think of. I'm not going out and creating memories, or meeting people, or even trying to better my life.

I'm just there.

I'm just sitting at home, waiting for the direction of some deranged god that thinks I'm somehow the answer to all her problems. I'm being a tool. I'm doing what she wishes and allowing myself to fall into her plans so easily I've somehow managed to convince myself they were my decisions all along.

"I don't think I want to do this, Ken."

I don't think I ever did. One of my first thought upon learning Altaïr's true identity had been to send him back home. Sure the thought of going to Masyaf had been there as well, but I hadn't thought to start saving people. Not at first. At least not until Minerva had dangled a perfectly unharmed Malik in front of my eyes.

Only for her to rip him away and personally see to it that he'd still lose his arm. Even after everything I did. Even after I had somehow managed to set Altaïr on the path to saving Kadar, she'd still taken him away.

Why?

Incentive. She wanted to give me the taste of almost succeeding. The feeling of knowing that, while Kadar still died and Malik lost his arm, Altaïr hadn't killed the old man so he wasn't all bad. To show me that Altaïr was redeemable. Except there was nothing to redeem.

Altaïr hadn't done anything worth needing to be redeemed over.

Not this time.

She made sure of that. By showing him everything he'd ever done wrong, blaming him for every bad thing that would come, she had singlehandedly guaranteed that. She had scarred him, torment him with images of an injured Malik, a dead Kadar, and even images of Desmond strapped to a machine and being tortured for the memories inside of his genes.

But why?

What was it all for? Why would she do this to him? Why would she show him all the horrible things to come if she was going make them happen anyway? Why go through all that trouble when, in the end, they couldn't be avoided.

Why? Well that's simple, isn't it? It was all for me.

So he wouldn't kill me.

You take a man uncaring—unburdened by the rules of his creed, of life. A man who lives only for himself, for his wants and needs, and you break him. You tear him down bit by bit until all you have left is a man tormented by all the choices he has yet to make. Then you toss him into a world so unfamiliar he has no choice but to latch on to the first face he sees.

So you give him to a girl so desperate to do something with her life—to make something of herself. One so eager to prove herself that she'll do everything you say with no resistance at all.

"You remember dad's theory?" I ask Kenny then, hands going to tug nervously at the browned hem of my pink tunic. It's dirty. Filthy, actually. There will be no saving it, not with the days' worth of sweat and dirt on it. "The one about Minerva not being able to see me because I wasn't a part of their universe?"

"Yeah."

"See, I don't think it's true," I tell him, turning back to stare over the city. Stars. The lights look like stars as they twinkle in the night. It's a city of stars. "I think she's been able to see us all along."

"Then why would she send Ezio?"

When Ezio had appeared all those nights ago he had said that Minerva had sent him as a failsafe. That, since Minerva couldn't see what we would do, she had sent him as a backup plan. But what if we misunderstood what she meant?

When Ezio had said she couldn't see what we would do, we took that as she couldn't see us at all. But maybe that wasn't the case. Maybe she just meant she couldn't see what we would do in that instant. And whatever decision we had been about to make must have been crucial. So much so that us choosing the wrong path just wasn't an option so Minerva had sent Ezio.

"Why would she send Ezio if she could see what we're going to do all along?" Ken ask, voice going low.

Before Ezio had shown up, Altaïr had just returned from Jerusalem, Robert de Sablé had just marched on Masyaf, and I had just come home more defeated than ever before. Minerva had sprung her trapped, after all. She'd led me on, believing that this was my chance to change everything, only to force it to be the same.

"Because we were probably going to do something she didn't want," I answer, but what were we going to do? Even after all that, I was still more than willing to help. Determined even. So what could have possibly been bad enough that she would need to send another Assassin to intervene? What were we planning before Ezio showed up?

Defeated, annoyed, and frustrated, I had only one thought in mind.

"I was going to destroy the apple."

"I didn't think you were being serious about that," Ken says, voice still low as he sits up a little straighter. He stares at me then, eyes wide but I don't turn to look at him. My eyes go to my hands instead as a small amount of guilt fills me because, yeah, that probably wasn't a good idea.

"Oh, I was," I tell him, wrinkling my nose as I catch sight off all the filth caught underneath my fingernails. I desperately need a shower. A nice, long, hot one. "I was going to smash it to pieces the first chance I got."

"Huh? So that's why she sent Ezio?" Ken asks as he settles back, leaning against the car's tinted mirrors. He's calm now, we both are, but that doesn't ease the lump in my throat. It doesn't make everything okay. Not by a long shot. "So that he would stop us from destroying it?"

"Or maybe to offer another chance to get our hands on one if we had destroyed Altaïr's apple," I tell him, considering that both swirls opened at just the right time so Ezio will get his apple around the same time Altaïr will get his. Whether I break Altaïr's apple or not, Ezio's apple will appear as a backup either way. "So she does want the apple, then."

"But she already had it didn't she?" Ken asks, hands going under his head as he looks up at the stars. He's the perfect picture of eased and relaxed as he lays there. "In Solomon's temple, remember? She had it then. If she wanted it so badly, why would she let it go?"

"Maybe because she wants us to have it?"

It's a guess, but it's all I have right now. It's all I will have too. At least until Minerva gets her head out of her ass and actually tells us what it is she wants. I'm done with all this cryptic shit. I've had more than enough of this.

We fall quiet then. As we watch the stars shine high above us, we process everything we've learned. Going over our new answers, I attempt to figure out what to do next. I've hit a fork in the road. With everything that's happened in just these few days alone, I have more than a bit to consider and I don't even know where to start.

But there's one thing I'm sure of at least.

"I'm not going to help her anymore," I tell Ken as I slip off the hood. I glide easily off it, my soft cotton clothes don't catch on the polished metal as I get to my feet. Ken follows my lead, getting to his feet as soon as I do. "At least not until she acts like an adult and tells me what she wants."

"Sounds fair enough," Ken agrees, long limbs pulling into a stretch as he stands. He's just as filthy as I am. There's dirt and sweat staining his once white tunic to the point it's now slightly brown. We don't smell all that great either. "But what about Altaïr."

"What about him?" I ask, the forced nonchalant falling flat as I climb into the car. The black, leather seat is cold, freezing. It sends a shock through my already thoroughly frozen body as I curl up into the seat. I almost feel guilty as I do. Ken's car deserves better than to be dirtied by my sweat stain clothes, except Ken doesn't mind.

All Leather interior means less chance of it actually absorbing unpleasant smells, after all.

"You know what," Kenny says as he climbs into the driver's seat. The car starts up quietly, so quietly I don't even realize he's started it until we move. The car glides down the dirt road smoothly, so much so you don't really feel the bumps in the rood. At least not that much. A FR-S isn't really built for off-roading but the car's fairly new so the suspensions handle the bumps well enough. "Will you break it off with him?"

"I don't know," I tell him as the dirt road turns to asphalt and the car truly begins to move. These cars were built for speed, so the speedometer climbs past 50 mph after only a few seconds on the road. "I…I honestly don't know."

Silence falls over us then, only broken by the soft beats of a song turned down too low to actually be audible and the soft purr of the car's engine. Kenny says nothing as we speed down the darkened road with only the headlights to light the way. He stays quiet, one hand on the wheel as the other shifts gears when necessary.

"I can't tell you what to do," he starts, voice low and thoughtful after a few minutes of almost complete silence. "I think you should just do what you think is best. Even if that means continuing to be with him. But, whatever you choose, you need to bear in mind that you might not actually get to keep him."

"Will you do the same?" I ask, voice just as low. My eyes are focused on the road, watching the asphalt disappear under us, but even then I see Kenny's fist tighten on the steering wheel out of the corner of my eye.

"Yes."

"Isn't it funny, Ken," I tell him as I lean further into the leather seat. I turn to look at him then. The blue glow of the dash makes the shadow on his face deeper, harsher so he looks way older than I ever remember seeing him. The stress of these past weeks has aged us more than days spent tirelessly working at our jobs ever could. "That after years alone, we finally found someone and we can't even keep them? To think, we waited this long for nothing."

"No, Jen," he says, the pity back in his voice even as his grip on the steering wheel turns his knuckles white. "It wasn't for nothing."

"How?" I ask, voice breaking as the lump in my throat thickness to the point where no other words make it out.

"Because I'd rather live life knowing what love felt like than never to have felt it at all," he whispers, voice steady and strong and confident in the way mine can never be. "I'd rather spent it knowing that I once had someone who loved me enough to face hell for me than to go through it thinking no one could ever love me."

"You love him."

"I don't know," Ken says, grip going tighter and the shadows on his face darkening in confusion. "But I know that we could have something between us if I just let it."

"Then why don't you?"

"I'm scared," he admits, voice once again lowering even as he finally lets up his grip on the wheel. "But not of losing him. I'm scared of everything that could go wrong. They live dangerous lives, Jen. You may be able to deal with the dangers of their worlds like you were born for it, but I'm not you. I wasn't made to go on dangerous adventures and have epic sword fights and save the day.

"I'm just me," he says voice breaking with something like self-hatred. "I'm Kenny, the nerd who spends all day in his workshop, inventing things, and never leaves his house unless it's for work. Ezio and I, we're different. Too different and I can never be what he needs. I can never pick up a sword and fight at his side or be there to have his back in the midst of battle."

"He isn't asking you to be," I tell him, voice just as low. Ken jolts at the words, but his eyes stay locked on the road ahead. "He doesn't want you to ride after him into battle, Ken. I think you'd give him a heart attack if you did."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because he didn't want that life for Claudia," I tell him, the certainty in my words so clear he spares me a quick glance. "When she wanted nothing more than to be an Assassin, he fought her so hard on it that they didn't speak for years, I think. So if he didn't want this life for her, I would think he wouldn't want it for you either."

He says nothing then. Neither of us does. We finally allow the silence to settle over us. It's a heavy one though, filled with the weight of a lot of choices we've yet to make. It's uncomfortable but we let the silence continue even after we pull up to the house.

As I watch the house, sitting so innocently despite all the secrets it harbors within its walls, I almost don't want to go inside. But I do, with a resolve I don't know where I got from, I gather what little courage I have left and step out of the car.

The hardest thing about doing something you don't want to is ignoring all the reasons why you shouldn't do it. As I put one foot firmly in front of the other, I have to fight off every thought that tells me to dive right back into Kenny's car and ask to be taken far away from here.

I've run away for long enough.

Still, each step is harder than the last and each thought is more convincing the closer I get to the front door. Kenny trails behind me, willing to let me take these few extra moments to settle my thoughts. To decide, really. He doesn't rush me as I slowly but surely make my choice.

There's so much to decide and even more to think on. Though, with Minerva calling the shots and determined to make me do her bidding, I know most of my decisions will be useless. I'm still going to make them, though. If only to tempt her into revealing her hand. The sooner I know what she's planning, the better.

It's time to know exactly what is going on.

"I think," I tell Kenny as we finally reach the front door. Clammy hand wrapped around the round, brass doorknob, I come to at least one decision in this whole complicated mess. "I'm going to take a break from all this."

"Take as long as you need," Kenny says, hand coming up to settle on my shoulder. "You deserve a break after everything you've gone through. We'll hold down the fort till you're ready to go again."

There's no doubt in his voice because we both know I will go again. That I won't give up. Not on this. Not after so long. It's not in my nature to give up. So no matter what Minerva might show me or what tricks she might pull, we both know I'll be back.

"Thank you."