Part Two

Chapter 15

Jennifer Hernandez:

"So she set you on fire?"

Dad's voice holds an edge of steel, of anger, but not directed at me or any of us. No, that anger is meant for the one and only Juno. Not that Dad is any match for someone who is technically considered a god, but the sentiment is heartwarming.

"Not exactly," I tell him nervously, playing with the water bottle in my hands as I refuse to look up and meet anyone's gaze. We're all in the living room. Everyone including Mom and Alexis but not the one person I want here with me most.

No, Altaïr still hasn't made it home yet.

Not that I can blame him, what with Arce being the city furthest out. The one with the longest travel time. Being out on the far west coast and at least a week's worth of journey on the way if I remember correctly.

"She just kind of forgot me in the middle of the city," I know it sounds crazy even as I force the words out. It'll always sound crazy and it's a testament to my family's faith in me that they believe every word out of my mouth. "Minerva usually leaves me at a distance, so I can see the whole scoop of what will happen if I don't do as she says."

"But Juno left you inside of the city?" Leonardo asks, believe my words just as easily even though he's the one with the least information on the whole situation. Unless, of course, Ken has already dutifully filled him on all aspects of the situation.

Not that I mind, more like I'm surprised he got it done so quickly.

Though it's a true testament to Leonardo's ability to adapt and conquer that he's already working out some sort of solution to this whole mess. The mess being the swirls and inter-dimensional time travel, of course.

"Yeah, she did, but it seemed less intentional than on purpose," I tell them because it's true. For all her cruel words, Juno hadn't been openly hostile not had she outright threatened me into ignoring Minerva's command. "She wasn't being aggressive or threatening. In fact, it was almost like she was warning me."

"Warning you about what?" Ken asks, peering up from the tablet in his hand, the one he's setting up to give to Leonardo as his own personal access to all the information we've already have gathered.

"About Minerva," I tell them honestly even though the notion confuses me as well. I mean why would Juno, who is working alongside Minerva warn me against her? "It's almost like she doesn't trust Minerva and thinks I shouldn't either."

"This wouldn't be as confusing if you had just finished playing the games already," Alexis cuts in before we can continue to talk in circles. "Seriously, either that or look up the wiki. I know you hate spoilers but there's obviously more going on here between Minerva and Juno than simple jealousy."

"Alexis has a point," Mom says, curling deep into Dad's arms as the exhaustion I can see her beating back gets dangerously close to winning. Eyes drifting shut, she tugs the blanket more firmly around herself as she says, "At this point, we need all the info we can get, so until you finish playing those games, I don't think we'll be making much more leeway on this mystery."

I can't argue with that.

No one can, not when it makes so much sense. With that, the impromptu meeting comes to a close, but no one leaves. Instead, we all linger mean curious eyes going to where Leonardo sits, eyes wide as Ken finally passes him the tablet and starts to teach him how to use it.

The night is already late, hours having gone by as we told them what we'd seen and experienced on our adventures as well as explaining just why we saw fit to bring Leonardo along with us, but no one wants to leave. Finally together again after a week, we're all reluctant to call it a night so no one is surprised when the television is turned on and someone picks out a movie.

It isn't until Dad scoops up Mom in his arms, the latter deeply asleep, that we decide to call it a night. Bidding us goodnight, Dad takes Mom with him, followed quickly by Alexis who only stops long enough to place a kiss against my forehead.

"Thank god you didn't almost die this time."

"It was a close call," I tease, ducking when he reaches out to muss my hair. "Go to bed, you have classes tomorrow."

He leaves with no fuss, waving at everyone as he passes. With only Ken, Leonardo, and Ezio left, I'm considering where I'm supposed to put them to bed since we only have one guest room, the one Kenny's been using.

"Leonardo and I will take our leave now," Ezio says, stretching as he stands to pull the other man to feet. At Leonardo's putout pout, he only smiles, coaxing the man down the hall and back to the attic. "We'll be staying in Monteriggioni so we shall see you all after everyone has rested."

"Goodnight," Ken and I call at the same time, following them until we get to the door of my room. I stop there, but Ken continues forward, sticking with them as they make their way up the stairs, where the guestroom lies. "See you in the morning."

I have only enough energy to shuck my clothes, pull on some pj's, dive into bed before I'm out like a light. If my dreams are peaceful, I don't know as my exhaustion is deep enough that I forget whatever I was dreaming as soon as I wake.

The next few days are a blur of science lingo too confusing for me to keep up with and endless hours spent waiting. Waiting for Leonardo and Ken to come up with an answer to every question we've had about the swirl, waiting for some sign from Minerva so I can finally continue on with her insane quest, and waiting for Altaïr to come home.

It's the last one that turns out to be the most unbearable.

The one that makes the days run endlessly long, dragging by as every second stretches into some cruel form of eternity where I can do nothing but wait. So the days drag endlessly by, each one spent staring pitifully at the blue swirl like it holds all the answers I need.

That it technically does, is not lost on me.

"Okay, that's enough moping around from you," mom says two days after we've come home from Italy, something like fond annoyance on her face as she pulls me to my feet and away from where I've been staring at the blue swirl. "Ezio, you too, come here."

"Ezio isn't moping though," I point out, not even bothering to deny my own moping as Mom leads us both out of the room with a firm hand. Ezio allows the manhandling with only a blush trying to bloom across his slightly tan skin. "Have you?"

"Whether he has or hasn't, it will stop and it will stop now," Mom says, voice stern as she leads us out of the attic and away from where Ken and Leonardo have spent the majority of the past two days bent over a table, chatting away in their own little world, and completely ignoring the longing looks Ezio sends their way. "I think the both of you could use some fresh air, so we're going shopping."

Though if the longing is to be included in the sudden, yet strong, camaraderie those two have struck up or solely to have Ken's attention recenter on him and him alone like it was before we brought Leonardo on board is anyone's guess.

"Shopping? For what?" I ask, already dreading the answer even though I know I won't be able to weasel my way out of this one. Mom has never been one to take no for an answer. Especially if she thinks going out will be good for us.

"For Thanksgiving dinner," Mom says, the tone of her voice implying that it really should have been obvious as she continues to steer us into the living room. "I know it's a bit late, what with Thanksgiving being tomorrow and all, but I'm sure will find what we need."

I'm groaning before she's finished talking, already dreading having to wait in long lines and driving to multiple stores just to find everything we need. Just as I'm gearing up to whine my way out of having to go, mom shoots me a truly skin curling glare.

"Don't give me any of that," Mom warns, words sharp as she nudges me towards the front door. Turning to Ezio, she hands him a fluffy hoodie when opening the door reveals a gray and wet day. Seeing as he's already otherwise dressed in modern clothing there's no need for him to change. "Grab your things, Ezio and I will wait for you in the car."

With no way to get out of it, I make a quick pitstop to my room for a sweater, checking my pockets for my phone as I do. Finding it there, I quickly grab my purse and head for the door before Mom can get impatient enough to honk the horn, or worse, come after me again.

"Ready," I tell her as I throw myself into the passenger seat of her Chevrolet, Camaro. A big, sleek, beast of a car Dad had forced upon her some years back with some excuse about having a reliable car to drive her around in. "Where are we going?"

"Walmart."

Retail Therapy has always been one of my favorite activities, I'm adult enough to admit that, but something about shopping for the holidays, dealing with the pushy, bossy holiday crowds just has a way of exhausting you.

We're not even halfway through our Walmart shopping before I'm ready to call it quits. Not that I can just up and leave seeing as Mom was the one that drove us here and leaving would mean leaving Ezio behind. Though, considering Ezio's peering around the busy store with something akin to wonder, I don't think he would mind being left behind.

He almost seems to be having the time of his life, wide brown eyes gazing at the seemingly never-ending rows of food. It's then that I remember this is his first time in a store, in the twenty-first century that is. That he hasn't asked any questions about everything around him is surprising right up until I remember that we've never really had the patience to answer his questions.

Not like with Leonardo.

The guilty that swamps me then is heady, strong enough for me to wish we could start all over again. Start off right. With openness and acceptance and not the confused hostility he was might with seconds after arriving in our world.

"Curious?" I ask as I dump a bag of dinner rolls into our cart. He's the one pushing, big hands wrap tight around the metal rails, as Mom and I filter around the aisle grabbing what we need. "This is our form of a market; except there's only one vendor and they sell everything here instead of just a few items."

"It is fascinating," he admits, following after me as we hurry to catch up to where mom has already turned the corner into the next aisle. "Efficient. To have it all ready and waiting instead of having to go stall to stall, searching for what you might need."

"Oh, we'll still end up going to another store, after this," I tell him, hand lightly gripping the cart as I do. It's more out of habit than actually trying to guide his steering as we round the corner after mom. "It's going to a holiday soon, Thanksgiving, so we probably won't find everything we need."

"Thanksgiving?"

"It's a holiday where we give thanks for everything we've been given," I tell him, taking the cans mom hands me when we finally reach her and placing them into the cart. "It dates back to the founding of America, when the pilgrims were out of food, so the Native Americans shared what they had with them."

"America?"

"Right, it hasn't been discovered by Columbus yet," I say, catching Mom's amused gaze before she turns her attention back to shopping. "Sometime in the 1490's a man by the name of Christopher Columbus will set sail towards the west and discover the continent of North America, accidentally confuse it with India, and name the indigenous people he stumbles across there Indians—which they are most certainly not—and set about a mass genocide of the Native Americans."

"Jen."

There's a scandalous look both on her face and the set of her shoulder as she checks around to make sure no one has heard what just came out of my mouth. With a quick warning glare, she ushers further down the aisle.

"What? It's true," I tell them both, not backing down. Meeting Ezio's gaze straight on, I dance out of Mom's reach as I continue, "Do us a favor, Ezio, if you're still alive and in the business by then, please kill him."

"Jen!" Mother shriek has me laughing even as I have to scurry out of her reach more than once. Behind us, Ezio laughs as well, just as easily ignoring the many people who toss weary looks our way as I am. "You will do no such thing, Ezio. You will leave Christopher Columbus alone, am I clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ezio chokes out from behind his laughter, leaning heavily on the cart as he does. It only serves to fuel my own laughter as I lean against the cart, clutching at it to keep myself standing as every time our eyes meet, the laughter starts all over again.

That it has less to do with actual humor and more with something close to hysteria is a given.

"I mean it you two," Mom says even as a rueful smile tries to pull the corner of her lips up. She points a threatening figure at both of us, her other hand planted firmly on her hip. "No planning hits on important historical figures, no matter how badly they have it coming. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

We continue shopping after that, brushing off the stares we get as we do. I spend the rest of the trip answering whatever questions Ezio sends my way as best as I can. The range widely from what a certain package of food is to how so much of one particular item can be produced so quickly. I give as detailed answers as I can, dragging enough patience from somewhere to keep any annoyance from coming.

Mother watches it all go down with a quiet hum and a pleased look in her glittery, blue eyes. Quietly ushering us forward when our attention is held for too long in the electronics department by, none other than, Assassin's Creed III.

It's quick work to flag someone down and open the case. Even with the holidays, people are more concerned about getting food than buying games at the moment, so grabbing a copy of the game takes no more than five minutes.

A record for Walmart, if I'm being honest.

Once the game is safely nestled with the cart, we scurry back along to Mom who's already deep in the kitchen department, grabbing the last of what we need. At check out, Mom only watches, fondness in her eyes, as Ezio and I pick different kinds of chocolate from the shelves as I promise to introduce him to the wonderful of sweets.

Used to sugar being a luxury commodity in his own time thus rare and limited to people not of nobility (which he hasn't been since that day), he's all for it. He's even eager enough that we almost end up taking one of each chocolate available. And probably would have if Mom hadn't stopped us with a pointed look.

"This one is my personal favorite," I tell him when we're finally back in the car, both of us in the back seat so we can go through our spoils. First on the list is, of course, a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. "It's peanut butter and chocolate, both of which have yet to be invented in your time."

Sliding the two cups out of its packaging, I hand him one, peeling off the paper as I do so he won't accidentally eat it. He takes the chocolate more excitedly than I would have thought considering he has no idea what either of the two ingredients are. But never on to turn down a new experience, Ezio tosses the whole thing into his mouth in one bite.

"It is sweet," he mumbles out, face scrunching up as he does because, well, he's nowhere near used to something so full of sugar. But, ever the trooper, he doesn't spit out the Reese's. Instead, he forces himself to chew and swallow. "It is really sweet."

"I know," I tell him, already rummaging through the back for the water I had enough sense to throw in. Handing it to him, I try not to laugh as downs half the bottle in one go. "We future people have a very big love/hate relationship with sweets. Either we want it sugary enough to rot our teeth or none at all."

"That does not seem healthy in any way."

This time I can't help but laugh, my own Reese's halfway to my lips. Not that I ever get to bite into it as Ezio snatches from my hand and shoves it into his mouth just as quickly as the first one.

"Hey!"

Ezio just gives me a cheeky grin, chocolate already halfway down his throat. Up in front, mom chokes off her quiet laugh with a cough, trying and failing to pretend she's not deeply invested in Ezio's tour through American's vast collection of chocolate.

"Just for that, I'm eating all of the Kit-Kat."

Even with the rush of too much sugar flowing through our veins, shopping takes up the last of our energy and the rest of the day. It isn't until we're deep in our shared sugar crash that we finally make it home, a few hours past sunset, and by then unloading the car feels like a never-ending task.

Even with the added help of everyone one home, I'm thoroughly exhausted by the time we're done and ready to pass out exactly where I am. That I'm currently sprawled across the loveseat is a small grace in a tiresome day.

"Just how much did you buy?" Dad asks, voice floating in from the kitchen as he walks in to inspect the bags upon bags of food currently taking up the whole dining room table and kitchen counters.

"Just enough to feed everyone," Mom answers, already busy storing all the food and tidying up the kitchen for tomorrow's feast. "With the added addition of Leonardo and Ezio, that makes seven mouths to feed. Eight if Altaïr makes it home on time and nine if Anissa stops."

"Ten if you count Mario," Dad adds in almost sheepishly, bustling about the kitchen as he helps mom sort through the groceries. I have half a second to wonder why Dad always sounds awkward when bringing up Uncle Mario before the answer reveals itself in the amusement in Mom's voice.

"Yes, of course, we mustn't forget Mario," she says, voice tight as a cabinet is shut rather forcibly. "Tell me, dear, just what is it about Italy that you find so fascinating?"

Oh, there's a story there. There has to be, but self-preservation has me scurrying away as I can hear the beginning of a scolding in the tightness of Mom's voice. Rather than get caught in the crossfire of an impending argument, I make my way back up to the attic.

Taking a seat in one of the many chairs, I'm once again back to waiting. Waiting for Ken and Leonardo to come up for air from where they're buried neck-deep in notes and assumptions and ideas, waiting for Minerva to do something, anything, and waiting for a sign of life from the pretty blue swirl.

The rest of the night passes by in a blur of boredom and thoughtful whispers from Ken's and Leonardo's science corner. Ezio having gone back to Monteriggioni sometime earlier, citing some quick business to attend to but promising to be back before tomorrow. At some point, my eyes close, body slump over the desk in front of me, and head pillowed in my arms.

Unaware of the passing time, it isn't until a hand, rough with callous brushes against my cheek that I stir. Ken and Leonardo are still where I've last seen them, pens furiously scribbling as they toss ideas back and forth.

"That cannot be the most comfortable place to sleep."

His voice is soft, a whisper so as not to disturb the science going on in the back corner of the attic, but even then I recognize it. The warmth that unfurls in my chest then is quick, strong, and all-consuming as I melt into the hands that move to scoop me up.

"I was waiting for you."