Notes ! : Thinking about turning this into a fanfiction about Jim Thatchers life. Would anyone be interested in it? Of course Most the characters from the third game would be in there. Leave me a comment if you are.

Always a Good Side . . .

Part two...

Ten years later. . .

whistling a merry tone Jim sat on a stack of crates, boxes and other bins that contained stuff that people didn't think twice to look at. The day was warm and no a single cloud in the sky. They're threat of rain had been stopped. For the last week it had been a down pour, no break, not even at night. At night seemed to be the worst.

Jim tossed the money pouch in his hand while he scanned the crowd with his magical eyes. Jim discovered his gift when he was thirteen. And ever since then it's been a greater help when it came to his new life. It both saved and killed lives.

Jim's gift helped him watch for the red enemies and the blue friends, and the golden targets, all this in a world of dark blue. Though using this gift gave him such a migrain, even for the use of misely five minutes and his head would be pounding so hard he couldn't stand straight or even bare to see the light.

But today was different, he was back in Boston for a while, so it wouldn't hurt to pay old debts would it? Plus his mother was here, he had to pay her a visit, bring her flowers, talk to her, fill her in on his new life.

A smile stretched crossed the young male's lips as with a blink, his strange vision shut off, and his target was found. Once the purse landed in his hands, he was off. He landed on the ground with a soft thud and moved through the crowd, getting closer to his gold target.

There had been a lot of people out in the streets today. And Jim knew why, as a week of non-stop rain, then this break, it was only natural to bask in what sunlight would come. Jim would of done the same thing, well he kind of was while he waited for someone.

Sure Jim's head was throbbing like an ax was splitting his skull. But this would almost take five minutes at the most. He barely knew the man, but he did promise, and a Thatcher never breaks a promise.

Once close enough, he placed his hand on the older males shoulder and said with a warm voice.

"Haytham? Haytham Kenway?"

Even with a light touch on his shoulder, Jim could feel the man's tensed muscles. As if it was a warning, Jim retreated his hand, and the older gentleman turned around to face the youth who had called him.

"Yes?"

He seemed to completely change once he got a good look at Jim, who still kept a small smile. Withholding any excitment ready to burst like a bubble. It had been ten long years but Jim still remembered this man, the kindness he showed to him and his mother.

"I came to repay a old debt." With that, Jim took down his hood in hope that Haytham would remember him.

The chances for that were extremely low. They both changed over that ten year span. Haytham had aged older, and Jim grew up to be a strapping young man. Though, Haytham clearly didn't remember him.

"I'm sorry, but I don't recall you."

Atleast there was an apology in there. But it didn't stop the blow that the youth took. he enhailed lightly and took out Haytham's purse.

"I promised you that I would return the money you gave me for my mother." He said holding the purse out. Haytham examned it and his eyes widened just a bit. He returned his gaze to Jim.

"I'm Jim Thatcher." Jim said with a growing smile.

"Jim...?" Haytham inquired. "You're that boy in the market."

Jim nodded. "And I promised to pay you back, and this is me paying you back."

A small ghost of a smile appeared on Haytham's face, and he took the purse. Haytham looked back at Jim.

"Come, walk with me."

He said not giving Jim a chance to decline, and started walking. The smile on Jim's faded and he walked beside the man. He was only going to give the man his purse and leave, he didn't even think about talking more with him.

"How's your mother? Is she better then the last time we've met?"

Haytham asked after a long stretch of slience. Jim felt like a moron, he felt as if he should of started the conversation. But what's done is done.

"Yes, thank the Gods. " Jim nodded. "She's doing a lot better, but unfortunately she is not with us anymore."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"The surgery was a success, and mother was perfectly fine for the next few months." Jim paused remembering the painful memories and suffering. "But the Illness came back and hit her hard. She started coughing up blood and was dead within a week."

Silence casted itself over the two of them like a blanket as they walked. What a way to damper the mood. Tell the man that his money only worked for a few months.

"And your father?"

Jim tensed up this time. His father? Did he really want to bring that up? Did he want to tell this stranger that his father is dead to? But not by natural causes or illness, but by Jim's own hand.

"I'm afraid I still have yet to hear anything from him."

Haytham nodded lightly. "I see."

Downhill this conversation kept going, one bad mood after another. Oh jeez what to do now? Jim could talk about his uncle? But what good would that do? He hadn't seen his uncle in eight years. Jim hated to think that he's dead.

"Out of darkness comes a light. No matter how you look at all the bad in a person, there is always a good side to them."

Jim sighed after saying that. He could remember when his mentor told him that. When he first spoke of the kindness Haytham gave. Jim didn't quite understand it until he got older and started learning the ways.

"My mentor told me when I told him of you, just shortly after he took me in." Jim laughed nervously. "I told him I actually wanted to be like you, because you, besides my uncle, were the only ones who were nice to me. My mentor got so angry." Jim's voice got low. "It was the first and last time I've seen him that angry."

Haytham remained quiet, it was quite obvious where that story ended. Jim's mentor got so angry that he actually beat the young boy.

Haytham was just about to say something, but the name "JIM!" was shouted over the crowd and the two stopped walking.

"Ahh, damn, I've been caught." Jim laughed, returning to his cheery self and he pulls on his hood. "Well, despite this depression conversation, I hope to see you one day again Haytham, even if we are enemies."

Jim, still keeping his smile turn away and vanished into the crowd.

-/-/-/-

Haytham looked at his purse, what a strange boy Jim turned out to be. Definitely not the lad he expected. After ten long years, the lad still came back to repay an old debt, a debt Haytham actually never expected to get paid for.

It was still in perfect condition, the strange lad had taken care of it for ten long years? And he even still wore a smile no matter how he talked about death or the fact that he admited that he was beaten by his mentor, mother, and probably his father.

Haytham didn't expect to see Jim after ten years. He certainly grew up to be a strapping young man. If it wasn't for those extremely bright oceanic orbs, Haytham wouldn't have recognized him. But that curtain of brown hair pretty much covered his eyes. A simple hair cut would reveal those beautiful eyes.

When Jim's name was called the two stopped and Jim smiled big and playfully said he was caught. Haytham couldn't help but to think that Jim was skipping out on work. Work Haytham had a fuzzy idea on. It was the hood that gave the hint on what his possible job maybe be. But what really gave it way was when Jim said they he would like to see him once more, even if they were enemies.

It was the symbol that Jim wore so proudly as a belt buckle. That symbol. Haytham knew then that it wouldn't be a good idea for them to meet again, thats if they were ever going to meet again. Jim was foolish, if they were to meet ever again, Haytham could use him to get information about the upcoming plans.

A small crossed his thinned lips as he watched the young lad, it was like watching the eight-year old boy disappear into the crowd those ten years ago. But now it was a man, and he disappeared into a crowd, like a true assassin.