Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long. I just didn't feel much of a desire to write. A lot of stuff has been going on in my world, both good and bad. But here's the latest chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 18: Into the Past

"Are you sure you're ready?" Ginny asked Mike a few weeks later.

"Yes," Mike answered. "I've been healed just fine for a few days."

"Yes, but your energy levels need to be high," Ginny said. "This is going to be draining on you. Can you handle that?"

"Yes," Mike said. "Ginny, trust me, I'm ok. Let's do this." They had put off having him try to reconnect with his ancestor again for the past few weeks because of his injury, but he was starting to get a headache and he figured it was because he hadn't tried it yet, which Ginny said would probably happen.

"Ok, then lay down and get comfortable," Ginny said.

"Are we sure this is a good idea?" Rose asked. She was looking at them with a worried expression. Micky was also looking worried, lying on his bed. Ginny had just changed his dressing and Mike thought he'd saw her cry a little while she did it. Not that he blamed her. Cleaning and redressing his wound was a reminder of what had happened and it made them all upset.

"Rose, I'm going to do this," Mike said lying down and getting as comfortable as he could on the old bed. "You heard Ginny; it'll be worse if I don't."

"Just trust me, Rose," Ginny said before turning back to Mike. "Close your eyes." Mike did as she told him. "Focus only on my voice. No other sound matters. Relax every muscle in your body. Starting from your head to your toes. Relax. Breathe. Now, I want you to picture that setting again. The puritans. The man."

"How can he picture him when he didn't see him, but through him?" Micky asked.

"Ssh!" Ginny snapped. "I need complete silence!"

"Sorry," Micky mumbled.

"You still know what he looks like," Ginny said. And somehow, she was right. Mike knew exactly what he looked like. "How he sounds. You know it all because you are him. Picture yourself as him. Drift to that world. Let this one dissolve away. Let him come to the surface. Let him guide you. Control your mind. He is you. You are him." Her words drifted further and further away as he just let himself relax. Slowly, images formed in his mind. He was drifting back to that place again. Inhabiting someone else's body. Speaking with someone else's mouth. Thinking someone else's thoughts. Living in someone else's world.

"George, you must listen to reason," someone was saying. Mike couldn't get a clear picture yet, but slowly started to focus on the world forming around him. The man was still speaking and Mike could tell the man was speaking to him. "You must come back with me. The Templars are planning something and it's not going to be easy to stop them this time."

"How is this different than any other time?" Mike asked. Or rather, George did. They were in a tavern sitting at a small table in the corner. The man speaking to him had long brown hair tied back in a bow. His brown eyes had a serious demeanor to it. He was pleading; desperate to get George to return with him.

"I don't know, but it feels different," the man answered.

"Do what you do best," George said. "I have a lot of faith in you, John. I know you can handle this. I wouldn't have left you in charge if I didn't think you could manage it. I have to find this prophet and I know he's here. The church is only the latest in a string of events."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, sir, but-" John said.

"No but," George said. "You can't do anything here. Go home. Do what I entrusted you to do." John seemed like he was about to raise another protest when a woman came in frantically crying.

"Please, someone help," she cried. "My son! He fell! Into the river! The current carried him away before I could grab him!"

"Take us," George said getting up from the table. She nodded her gratitude and ran out the door. George, John and several other patrons at the bar ran out and followed her. The river was only a mile from the tavern and it didn't take them long to arrive at the river's edge. George's heart raced as he saw a little boy thrashing about in the water. He seemed to have been caught on something. George stopped for just a moment and realized the boy was caught on a net. This wasn't a normal fishing net; this was a net that stretched across the whole river bed. Set up almost as if to make sure the boy was caught in it no matter what part of the river he floated down. Like someone knew the boy was going to fall before he did.

George waded into the water while John waited along the bank. The current was fast and George himself nearly stumbled and slid down into the water to be carried away. George finally reached the boy who looked up at him with pleading eyes. He was clutching onto the net for dear life. It took a little time for George to disentangle the boy because of the strength of the current, but he finally succeeded. Getting him back to shore was harder, but John was there to help pull the boy up and out of the water.

"Oh thank you, thank you!" the woman said grabbing the sopping wet boy and clutching him tightly to her with relief.

"You alright, George?" John asked as they stood on the river bank.

"Yes," George answered hastily trying to shake off water. "Look around you. What do you notice about the people?"

"Notice?" John asked. "They're all relieved the boy is alive."

"Yes," George said. "They were scared and surprised. Now they are relived. Normal emotions you would expect. Except for that woman." John looked where George was. A woman was standing near a tree as though trying to hide, but George could see a smile on her face. It was relief, but the moment George arrived he'd noticed her. The look on her face said she'd been expecting all of them. And she knew they would run into the water to save him. She wasn't scared for the boy.

"So?" John asked. "You don't think she's the prophet, do you?"

"She's the only one who doesn't seem very surprised about all this," George answered. "Go home, John. Protect the town. I have complete faith in you."

"Are you going to follow her?" John asked.

"Yes," George answered. "Just until we can get somewhere private to talk. Go home, John." George followed the young woman before John could argue any further. He lost her a little ways through the trees, but noticed she seemed to be heading towards the eastern part of the town near the church. So he pushed in the same direction. He was about a half a mile away from the church when he heard her scream, pushing him to run in that direction. When he saw her again, she was fighting off three men.

"Let go of me!" She yelled just before one of the men brought down the hilt of his sword on her head. She slumped to the ground and another of the men caught her. George knew these men were Templars. He was too far away to do much to help her, but he had speed and surprise on his side. He quickly closed the gap between them. He drew his pistol and a throwing knife and sprang into action as soon as he knew he could. The knife left his hand without much effort on his part and landed in the throat of the man who'd hit the woman. He aimed with his pistol at the same second and dropped the second man with a bullet between the eyes. The third dropped the woman to the ground, who was still barely conscious, and whirled on George drawing his own pistol. George drew a small stiletto knife and holstered his empty pistol. The third man was set to fire at him, but George quickly leapt into the air, grabbed a branch and swung across it. The bullet the man fired went right by him. George let go of the branch and flew threw the air with the stiletto drawn. He landed directly on top of the third man, burying the stiletto into his chest. He quickly pulled the weapon out of the dead man and placed it back into it's wet holster before dropping down beside the woman still struggling to remain conscious.

"Assassin," she whispered.

"I won't hurt you," he said. "I need to get you medical attention."

"I know," she smiled. "The church. Take me to Father Daniel."

"You need a doctor," George said lifting her carefully off the ground.

"Please," she said wrapping her arms round his neck. "Daniel will help me." George wanted to plead with her more, but she lost the battle and passed out. So he abided by her wishes and carried her the rest of the way to the church. When he arrived, the church was empty.

"Father Daniel?" he called out, hoping the man was at least nearby. He'd made it halfway to the altar when a man stepped out of a side room.

"May I help you?" the man asked, dressed in a priests robes. The man's eyes landed on the woman in George's arms and fear gripped him.

"Are you Father Daniel?" George asked.

"Yes," he answered hastily. "What happened?"

"She was attacked," George answered. "She needs medical attention, but she asked for you."

"She does not trust many," Father Daniel answered. "Doctors included. Please, bring her here." George followed the man back through the door he'd come through. On the other side was a small room with a bed and a night table. George placed her on the bed and Father Daniel immediately darted through a side door to a bathroom. When he returned, he'd had a wet cloth and knelt by her side. "If you tell me your name, Sir, I will see to it you receive a reward for your help."

"I want no reward, Father," George said as Father Daniel cleaned the woman's head.

"I must do something to repay your kindness," Father Daniel said.

"You care for each other," George said.

"She is family," Father Daniel answered. "If you do not want a reward, at least tell me what you can of the men who did this. I will see to it the men who harmed her will face justice."

"They are dead," George answered. The Father looked at him in shock. "I am sorry; I know you are a peaceful man, but if she is family I hope you will take solace in the fact I had to in order to save her."

"You alone?" the Father asked, then looked at George very carefully. George wasn't sure what to make of this man, but knew most men of the Church would find his weapons unholy. They were peaceful. Most others didn't think twice knowing native attacks were always a lingering threat. But the Father's confusion faded when he saw the weapons. He repeated what the woman had said in the forest. "You are an Assassin."

"She said the same thing," George said. "How do you know that?" George was an Assassin, but most people had no idea that Assassins and Templars even existed, let alone how to recognize one.

"One man taking down multiple attackers," Father Daniel said. "These men have tried to take her before and they are strong. Her father was an Assassin. We know all about the Assassins and the Templars. They are the ones after her."

"Because she is the prophet?" George asked. Father Daniel was silent for a few moments. "She saved dozens of lives. I don't want to exploit her at all. There was a boy in the river who would have drowned just now. But someone put a net in the river to catch him before he was swept away. Someone who knew he was going to fall. She was the only one I saw who did not look terrified."

"What do you want?" Father Daniel asked almost tersely. "You say you don't want a reward or to exploit her. Yet you clearly sought her out. Why?"

"I only offer my protection," George explained. "I know the Templars want to exploit her gift and if they can't get her to help them willingly, they will force her. I want to protect her from that."

"For the rest of your lives?" Father Daniel asked.

"For as long as it takes," George answered.

"Why?" Father Daniel asked. "She is just another soul in a sea of God's creatures. Why would you risk so much to save her alone."

"Every soul is special," George said. "And if the Templars do somehow force her to help them, it would be devastating for more than just one soul. She has saved dozens of lives already. Who knows how that will change if the Templars get to her. They will use her as a weapon. The men who attacked her today are just a small fraction of the force they have. There will be more sent after her."

"The decision will be up to her," Father Daniel said. "She has a small head wound. With rest, she will be ok. Please, let's continue this outside."

"You said she was family," George said once they'd walked into the main area of the church. "But then you said her father was an Assassin. Obviously she is not your sister then."

"She is my sister-in-law," Father Daniel answered. "Samantha. She married my brother. Unfortunately he was murdered a year ago."

"Murdered?" George asked.

"By Templars in an unrelated incident," Father Daniel answered. "She's been living with me ever since. She has no other family. They have also passed. Either through Native attacks or Templar means."

"I understand," George said. "Please, tell her what I have offered when she wakes up. I hope I can come by in the morning?"

"Of course," Father Daniel said. "She needs her rest."

Slowly the scene around Mike started to fade. He was starting to hear Micky, Rose and Ginny talking quietly. He could barely make out what they were saying, but he could tell they were wondering how much longer he'd be out and if he was hurt in any way by doing this. He actually felt better. The headache he'd had was gone, but he still wondered why he was seeing what he was seeing. It was clear the visions were centered around this prophet, but what did it all mean to him? He sat up and smiled at his friends who looked relieved. He assured them he only felt as though he'd taken a very refreshing nap and told them what he'd seen.

"I'm sure you'll get more answers as you see more," Ginny said.

"He's gotta do that more?" Rose asked.

"Yes, if he goes too far in, he won't come back out," Ginny said.

"How do we know if he's going too far in?" Micky asked looking worried.

"It's kind of hard to tell, really," Ginny said. "I've never seen it happen. It hasn't happened in a long time."

"But it can happen?" Rose asked. "And you didn't think to warn us about that?"

"It's only happened when people forced too much at once," Ginny said. "Going in every day for longer than 5 hours. I would have pulled him out if he'd been gone much farther."

"How long was I out?" Mike asked. It didn't feel like very long to him.

"Almost four hours," Rose answered. "I was getting worried."

"I'm fine, Rose," Mike assured her again. "And Ginny said that's only happened to people who've done too much. I'm not gonna do that. Don't worry."

"It's my job to worry about you because you don't," Rose said. Mike smiled at her. She'd always told him she wished he'd worry about himself more than others, but it wasn't really in his nature. He always put others needs ahead of his own and he wouldn't stop now.

"I do enough to take care of myself," Mike said. They sat for another half hour just pondering the implications of what Mike's vision might mean when Ginny suddenly grabbed her stomach and mouth and dashed for the bathroom. Micky pushed himself up, but Rose glared at him.

"You get out of that bed and I'll shoot you again," Rose snapped.

"I'll take care of her, don't worry," Mike said following Ginny. He shut the door behind him and knelt next to Ginny who was throwing up in the toilet. He gently rubbed her back to ease her mind a little. When she finally finished and leaned back against the wall and Mike handed her a tissue.

"Thanks," she said hoarsely. Mike got up and grabbed a small glass of water and handed it to her.

"You ok?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, just stress," Ginny said. "And the drugs in the air. I'll be ok. I just wanna rest here for a minute." Mike nodded and sat next to her, just in case she started throwing up again. But after a few minutes, she'd fallen asleep against his shoulder. Rose knocked softly on the door and came in.

"She ok?" Rose asked.

"Yeah, tell Micky she's just passed out and I don't really wanna move her yet," Mike said as Rose shut the door.

"Neither do I," Rose said. "I wanna look at her while she's asleep."

"Look at her?" Mike asked.

"Yeah," Rose said kneeling down next to them. "You notice she's been throwing up a lot lately or just looking sick."

"Sure, I guess," Mike said. He hadn't really given it much thought. "She's stressed and there's a lot of stuff in the air to make anyone sick."

"She wasn't sick before," Rose said. "I think...I think she might be pregnant."