Hey guys! Wow, the response I've gotten for this story has just rocked. I appreciate every single review so much, especially the ones that say I nail the twins even though I haven't played the game yet. I did order it today though, so in two weeks I'll get to play as well! I'm so excited. Avoiding spoilers is exhausting. I wanted to apologize for the long wait but I needed to figure some stuff out with this story and I am participating in nanowrimo so my writing energy is distracted. I wanted to post this though because I've got a great idea for where this should go and I'm especially pumped about Syndicate today after ordering the game. (I carried around my Jacob action figure all day. I'm a 22 year old child sometimes.)

Please enjoy this next installment, I'll try to have more for you soon!

Getting Jacob onto the makeshift stretcher and on his way to the safe-house was the easy part. The hard part was keeping him quiet enough along the way that they could disguise him as a corpse.

Evie knew they were lucky that the explosion had happened in such an off part of town. The downside was that they were away from most people who dared to get involved and help. The upside was that they were away from any significant gang leaders who would recognize them at first glance. With Evie deprived of her coat and fairly disheveled from hauling her brother free she was almost in civilian disguise. Not many knew her face anyway. She preferred stealth and while she and Jacob ran the Rooks together he was better known as their figurehead. He seemed to like it that way, but right then as they carried his makeshift stretcher through the last square it was working against him.

Anyone who recognized Jacob Frye gravely injured and potentially unguarded would spread the news like the plague, and it would only be a matter of time before that information wreaked havoc. Templar assassins would surely come for her and her fallen twin while he was weak, and the Rooks themselves would fall into disorganization without a solid leader. She was more than capable of running the Rooks by herself, but not all the members respected her word as a woman and many of them just flat out liked Jacob. He riled something up in them and put their brawling habits towards a good cause, much as the assassin order had done for him. Without him, the Rooks would quickly tatter, and there simply weren't enough assassins in London to deal with the Templars alone.

"Stop, just a moment," Evie said, "I need to adjust my grip. He's bloody heavy." She nodded towards a grungy alley that was blessedly abandoned. Martian did as she asked and they lay Jacob down out of sight.

The plan was to cover Jacob with a sheet and then Evie, disguised to look like an errand boy and Martian's assistant, would help him carry the 'body' back to Martian's practice. It didn't take much to hide Evie's identity and gender. She borrowed a scarf from Andrew and stole Jacob's eight-point-cap from his coat, pulling it low over her eyes. A doctor and his assistant taking a corpse from the sight of an explosion would raise no questions and it gave them the chance to cover Jacob and keep him from being recognized.

The problem was he was still bleeding from whatever shoulder wound he'd sustained and he was coming back to consciousness, too delirious from pain to understand what was going on. Their 'corpse' had started to groan and tug at the sheet over his head. Evie wasn't taking the chance of getting noticed and Jacob was about to cause quite a scene if he rose from the dead in the middle of the square.

She crouched by him, uncovering his head and stopping him from trying to sit up with a firm hand against his collar, an action that caused him to gasp as blood welled up over her fingers. "Sorry," she whispered, cupping his jaw and forcing him to look at her. "Jacob, do you know where you are and who I am? I need a real answer this time, our work could depend on you understanding me right now," she said seriously, glancing up as a shadow passed them. Andrew had chased the person off by running after begging for coins. Smart boy.

Jacob's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed dryly and blinked. His gaze was glassy with pain but he seemed to understand her. "You're Evie, my sister. I'm…" he hesitated, glancing around. "In a bloody alley?" he said after a moment, shooting her a slightly quizzical glance. He blinked again and something seemed to shift in his eyes, uncharacteristic panic causing him to push against her hand. "Andrew?!"

Evie held him down, shaking her head and putting a hand across his mouth to silence him. She was careful not to impede his breathing more than it already was. "Andrew is safe, he's actually playing lookout right now." She glanced up again, relieved that Andrew's loitering was making people avoid him for fear he was a pickpocket. The fear was valid, he very often was. She lifted her hand from Jacob's mouth as he relaxed beneath her. "You need to be quiet though, you are badly injured and if any of this gets to the Templars our hold on London could become very poorly."

Jacob nodded, pressing his lips together and glancing down at the sheet still covering most of his body. "So that's why we're pretending I'm dead."

"I know stealth isn't your strong suit, but until those ribs heal I need you to work with me," Evie said, lifting the sheet. "The last thing we need is word that the leader of the Rooks is unable to defend himself."

Jacob opened his mouth to protest but Evie clapped a hand over it again. "Don't you dare. You have broken ribs and a moment ago I couldn't wake you. A well placed punch would puncture your lung and that'd be the end." She moved her hand and Jacob grimaced, clearly feeling the punishment from his ribs as he tried to breathe past pain that only got worse with breathing.

"We haven't much time before someone realizes I'm conversing with the corpse," Evie said gently, her tone softening with sympathy. She'd had broken ribs before, and she felt for her twin. "Lay still, breathe as little as possible, and we will be at Martian's shortly."

He closed his eyes, his forehead twisting and his teeth grinding together as he took one last cleansing breath and nodded. Evie nodded back and brushed his jaw with her knuckles before covering his head with the sheet, assured that this time they wouldn't be interrupted.

She straightened, nodded to Martian, and they finished their journey in peace.

AC

Jacob was conscious but white-faced when they finally got him into the back room where he would be safe from prying eyes. The doctor was rushing about collecting supplies and sending Andrew to fetch more, leaving Evie to get Jacob out of his clothes and into the bed. She was more suited to the task anyway, since her training made her significantly stronger than the elderly doctor who worked with them.

"Can you shrug out of your coat or have I got to cut it off you?" Evie said after a few exasperated moments of watching Jacob, now painfully sitting up on his own, trying to get out of his coat. He looked up at her with something like masked horror.

"Don't touch my coat," he snapped defensively, turning his shoulders away even though the movement obviously pained him. "You already took my hat, be content."

She rolled her eyes. "The hat was so I wouldn't be recognized either and you know it," she said, taking the cap off and planting it on his head with an irritated flop. "And I'll do whatever I want to your coat if you don't get it off before you bleed to death." She gestured at his shoulder where a fresh stream was blooming over what was left of his white collar. "Come on, you stubborn ass, it's already got a tear and your blood all over it," she said, reaching for his coat again. "You can get a new coat."

"My blood in my coat, still makes it mine which means you shouldn't be touching it," he said, shimmying it off his shoulders and down his arms with a few rapid pulls that left him holding his side and gasping harshly. The heavy black fabric pooled on the bed behind him and Evie grabbed it and tossed it over the chair.

"Well I hope the pain was worth all that," she said curtly, feeling her anger flare at him. He grimaced weakly and she could tell he regretted his actions.

"We are not repeating that with your vest," she said, pulling out her knife. "So shut your mouth and just hold still."

Jacob was grinding his teeth again and involuntary tears leaked down his cheeks as he tried to breathe. Evie went to his bowed back and split the vest right up his spine, tugging the fabric away when he was able to uncurl enough that it wasn't pinned by his arms. That left him in his white undershirt, parts of which was glued to his skin by his own blood. She pressed her lips together and positioned her knife. If he lifted his arms above his head she was almost certain he would pass out from the pain.

When he was finally bare from head to hip, she nudged his head up and pulled his shoulder gently back, trying to see how bad the torn skin actually was. "You got stabbed in a brawl last week, didn't you?" she asked, brow furrowed.

He pressed his lips together even tighter and wouldn't look at her, a curt nod his only reply.

Evie sighed, frowning at the damaged and shaking her head. "Jacob, we have enough danger dealing with the Templars and their gangs without having you get off on your drunken brawls." She tore a strip of cloth and pressed it into the wound, able now to see the ragged edges of the stitches he'd popped. That's what had caused the bleeding, so at least she knew there wasn't something lodged in his shoulder.

"I wasn't drunk!" Jacob defended, his fingers digging into his own thigh as the pain from speaking bore into him. "I was dealing with an incident between two Rooks and the Templars took advantage."

Evie glanced at him and they briefly met eyes. "All right," she said softly, pulling away the bloody cloth. Jacob's shoulder relaxed a little under her fingers and she knew he heard the apology in her tone.

"I'm not actually that stupid, sis," he said wearily. "Despite my record I don't enjoy getting injured."

Her lips quirked sadly and she reached for some alcohol standing nearby. Jacob braced himself without her warning and she poured it into the wound. "You're going to have to stop flirting with death before I believe that."

"Oh come on," he said, his smile pale but genuine. "Don't pretend a lecture. You leap off buildings too." He paused to breathe, closing his eyes briefly and pressing a hand gingerly to his side where heavy bruising was discoloring his skin.

"We're assassins, sister," he said finally, cracking one eye open to look at her. "Death is our ally."

"Not yours," she whispered.