"You didn't!"

"I did," I nodded sorrowfully, "But in my defense, I was a little drunk. I don't know what he put in that wine, but..."

"So you lit the man on fire?"

"On accident! I mean, maybe... a little... I mean, I just knocked the candle over on him! It's his fault, he insisted on the whole corny cliche candle light dinner!"

"And you lit him on fire?"

"Didn't we go over this?" I asked, leaning my head against the table. Ezio shook his head, grinning. We currently sat on the floor in Leonardo's workshop. Technically, we were hiding from whatever was left of Francesco's troops. But really, it was because we didn't want to go anywhere else tonight. So we decided to celebrate a successful assassination by relaxing for once. Leonardo himself, however, said that whatever it was we were doing, he needed sleep, and headed upstairs. I think it was around midnight now, and the commotion outside had long since died down. Only the tapping of the rain could be heard.

"Who was this man, anyway?" Ezio asked.

"Oh, some rich guy who wanted to try something new, so he decided to pick up the first girl in the bar," I snorted, "I don't think he'll be trying that again any time soon," I smiled. "Anyway, that's how I spent my life," I concluded. "Most of it was sleeping in school, or going around the bars in New York. And don't forget the gang wars, those were a pain. Not really that interesting, though, and even a bit depressing. How was being a noble? Must be a lot more cheerful."

"Oh, you know," he waved a hand in the air, "Spending all my money on women and wine, learning how to be a banker from my father, beating up Claudia's suitors..."

"Hm. So, over all, fun?"

"Sometimes. Other times it just got a little repetitive, and I'd find something new to do."

"Like found a new woman to sleep with?" I giggled, and he smirked.

"Perhaps. But anyway, it was a good life. I didn't want it to change," Ezio's face fell, and I stopped smiling, unsure what to do.

"Hey, cheer up. Things aren't so bad now, either," I said. He squinted in appraisal.

"No, I suppose things could be worse. I could be dead along with them," he bitterly replied, and I felt a pang of empathy.

"I mean, you got your revenge and hunted down the man that your father wanted to. And you still have Claudia and Maria, and Mario."

"Yes," he nodded, though his frown stayed. There was an awkward silence.

"So, just out of curiosity, were there any signs of the conspirators?" I asked and he shrugged.

"Jacobo fled the plaza the moment he found out Francesco was dead. I think a few thieves dragged away the body, meaning to hang it from the prison we found him on."

I smiled slightly. "Well, then I'd say this day was a success."

"Weren't you the one who predicted doom this morning, cursing me for everything?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I made an innocent expression, and he burst out laughing. "Though you know, I think there are still things you can learn."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, no offense, but you've only been doing this for about a month. You're good with a sword and everything, and you run pretty damn fast, but your stealth and... hm, techniques still leave more to be desired." I elaborated. My one remaining knife fluttered into my hand, and I twirled it between my fingers. "And lucky for you, I have years of experience with it. I just think there are some things I can teach you."

"Don't get cocky. And I'm not that bad, am I?" he asked, crossing his arms, somewhat hurt.

"No, you're not. But there's simply still lot of things you can learn."

"Like?"

"Well, like finding spots that will inflict the most damage. Or points that will hurt them the most, but won't kill them. It's all a little morbid, actually, but useful when it comes to that. If you want to silence them quickly, or, on the other hand, loosen their tongue."

"And what's wrong with my methods?" he asked defensively.

"Nothing. Except that your targets generally lie there kicking air for about a minute after you technically killed them. They are beyond help, but I think we should spare them the misery," I replied seriously. "Larry always got mad at me when I killed targets quickly, but he's barely human, so I didn't listen to that one particular point."

"What exactly did you do in this gang of yours, anyway? You speak as an assassin would," he raised an eyebrow, guessing where I learned my skills. I bit my lip.

"I was back up, mostly. I'm a sniper, and I know first aid and some basic treatments. Then I took care of certain matters that had to be done quietly. You can say I was an assassin, I suppose. Larry probably liked to think of me as one. Maybe he knew what my tattoo meant, I don't know. I also dealed when I couldn't find anything else to do."

"Dealed?" he leaned forward with curiosity.

"Yeah... drugs," I shakily said, mood shifting suddenly as he questioned me further.

"What do you mean 'drugs?'" Ezio arched a brow, "Medicine you mean? Like the doctors?"

Gaze flickering away from him for a moment, I tried to find a way to explain the concept of narcotics. "Kind of," I breathed. "Except in my time, people take, ehrm, medicine to feel…better. Temporarily. At parties. Mostly college kids. You know, people who are still in school as adults. At university," I mumbled, quickly remembering he wouldn't know what college was. "You know like the places they have here where people study religion and law. Anyway, it was…wrong," I nodded, rushing my words as I saw him staring at me with mounting confusion. "And illegal. I forbid myself to doing them, since my life was complicated enough without them. But selling the cheap stuff was enough to cover rent and everything," I shrugged, "It was easy money, and I had to survive somehow."

"Hm," he hummed, uncertain how to react. I looked away from him, suddenly feeling ashamed.

"Listen, I'm not proud of myself, believe me. But there was nothing else I could do. They barely let me finish school, but I couldn't get a normal job because of my criminal record."

"Did you ever think of leaving?"

"The gang? It would be impossible. I barely survived being jumped in-"

"Jumped in?" he repeated, unfamiliar with the term.

"Initiated," I clarified, "But leaving would be fatal," I shivered, "I never even considered it."

"What about just leaving the country?"

"I- they'd track me down," I swallowed hard. The atmosphere changed from joking and friendly to something heavy. Though I think it began changing when his father was brought up. "Or Eve."

"And they won't now?"

"Technically speaking, none of us are even born yet," I reminded him. "I don't know how this whole thing works, but I'm pretty sure I'm safe."

"Don't you miss anyone? It was your home, after all."

I thought about it for a moment. "No. Jake was my best friend. But even he always told me that if I got the chance, I should run. And there was no one else."

"Then why did you do it in the first place?"

"Like I said before. I was young and stupid, my father left us, and I was also scared. Then Larry came around, and told that there was a way to protect my remaining family. Obviously I took the chance. I regretted it a thousand times over, but it was too late by that time. And when my mom was..." I choked on those words. "And my sister blamed me. Said that I joined the gang for nothing, because it didn't save mom. She tried to leave, but I had to bring her back into my apartment just a little bit later, in nearly the same condition as my mom was," I didn't like the subject. But I kept talking, hoping to at least get it off my chest. "And then Eve still left. And I was left with nothing but my apartment, a criminal record, and scars that screwed up my life."

"Don't say that," his hand twitched towards me, but stayed on his lap. "You were fighting for something. Why else would you do it?"

"What do women do right now?" I asked suddenly, and he seemed surprised for a moment.

"Well, low and middle class women work, or take care of their husband's houses and children. But what does that-"

"Exactly. They are there for child birth, am I right?"

"Well, not necessarily, but-"

"I'm barren," I blurted out. He stopped talking, staring at me as if trying to comprehend what I was saying.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm twenty years old, and I only have a one in a hundred chance of ever getting pregnant," I continued. "That's what happened when I was out for revenge for my mother. But I overestimated my abilities and nearly paid for it with my life. In the end, one of her killers stabbed me in the stomach. I was nearly eviscerated," I choked. "The internal scar tissues are screwing the entire system up."

"You-" he stared at me as understanding dawned on him.

"And with that, I lost my value to men. Especially at this point in history," I concluded. "This assassin job is the only thing I can do now, really. I'm only trained to kill, which is why I didn't leave you when I had the chance. It's why I helped you assassinate those men," I took a deep breath. I felt better having it out if the open. But suddenly, I was worried of his reaction. "I survived because that was what I was best at. Considering that I was tied to the gang, with no family or friends outside of it, and no possibility of starting my own life, you could say that everything became sort of pointless.

He was silent for a long moment. Though it seemed to stretch on for hours, I knew that logically it could only have only been for a few seconds.

Hazel gaze catching my own dark one, what he said then took me completely off guard. "You're helping me now," he slowly began, "And of your own free will. Isn't that a point? And a future?" I stared at him, unsure how to reply. It was a curious statement.

"I-I suppose..."

There was a silence again, though not nearly as tense as before. His expression was now sympathetic, but I forced myself to look away from him. The last thing I needed now was to break down completely.

But maybe the point of my life was to go back in time to help him? Maybe the entire reason of for my existence was so I could help history out? It was a paradox, a weird one at that. I decided not to dwell on it. What happened was done and passed, and now there was only one way for me now.

Forward.

"I'm sorry," he said, maybe for the lack of anything better.

"No need for that," I quietly said, giving him a fleeting but thoroughly grateful grin, "You weren't the one that stabbed me, remember?" Standing up and rubbing my neck, I stretched my arms a bit. It'd been a long, eventful day. "However, I want to ask you something."

"Yeah?"

"Do you miss your life? Your old one, I mean. Before everything…happened?"

"Yes," he didn't hesitate in saying, "Things were simpler. They were familiar." He stood up as well. "I miss my father and brothers, almost more than I can comprehend," he breathed, expression distant. "I miss our house. I miss being involved with my old friends, with supposedly polite society, with familiar activities, people and places. So yes, I miss my life… but that certainly doesn't mean I cannot adjust to this new one. Hell, it doesn't even mean I don't find myself liking this new one. "

"What do you mean?"

"It's different in almost every way," he explained, brows furrowed as though deep in thought. "I was a banker's son. And now I'm assassin. And you simply can't compare the two. While I sometimes wish it didn't all happen this way, you cannot change what's already occurred-"

"You can only go forward," I thought out loud. "That's an interesting way of looking at it. Would you miss being an assassin if it was the other way around?"

"Yes, I think so," he suddenly smiled. "There are things I'd miss, that's for sure. Like the complete freedom. I can go wherever I please, act however I desire, even talk to whoever I wish. It's new, and I think I'm beginning to like it."

"Ah, freedom. You don't truly know what it is until you have it," I proclaimed. "I thought being part of a gang was freedom, but it was just another chain. In fact, this is quite nice, considering everything you and I do we is of our own free will," I suddenly yawned. "Well, I'm done being philosophical for today. Might as well get some sleep."

"Good night." I felt his eyes on my as I walked away. We both had things to think about tonight, it seems.

~"You promised you'd protect us!" she screamed into my face, and I flinched away. "And yet she's dead!"

"I-"

"You thought you could play big shot, joining your stupid little gang, carrying a gun around with you, selling drugs to get money, and all that was for NOTHING!"

"Eve, please-"

"I've had it with your excuses! You think you can play grown up? Fine! Enjoy being a grown up by yourself. Take some real responsibility. I'm leaving!"

"Where will you go?" I was crying, my voice meek.

"Anywhere away from you, before I end up like her!"

"No, Eve, you don't understand-"

"I understand perfectly! Mom didn't have to die!"

She was desperate, broken down like me. And she was angry, frustrated. I tried to tell her it wasn't my fault, but she didn't listen. The last thing I remembered before I collapsed in tears was her back, storming out the door. She barely even packed- just threw some clothes together, and just...left.

And then I was alone. I think someone found me in the morning, the voice vaguely familiar, but I don't remember who it was. What I do remember, though, was screaming in rage, the noise echoing in the empty apartment. I barely knew what I was doing afterward, I made phone calls, and then we were going... going somewhere...

And there was pain... Excruciating pain in my lower stomach, as well as my chest...~

"Eden, you have to wake up." I sat up sharply with a gasp, feeling cold sweat run down my face. "Eden?" I turned my head slowly, still breathing fast. It took me a few moments to realize who was shaking my shoulder. Ezio was crouching beside my improvised bed of blankets on the floor, holding onto my shoulder. Behind him, at the foot of the stairs, Leonardo was staring at me, looking extremely worried. I tried to even out my breathing, and stop the ringing in my ears. "You were screaming. Bad dreams?"

"You can say that..." I licked my dry lips, "I need some... fresh air..." I jumped up, and as I was leaving, I saw them stare after me, confused and worried. I was still fully dressed, using my cloak as a blanket, which now lay discarded on the floor somewhere behind me.

Outside, it was still raining. I came out right in the middle of the street, and took a deep breath. Reveling in the cool air around me, the rain drops felt like heaven falling down on my skin, sliding down. My hair got wet almost immediately, but I didn't mind. The city seemed deserted, except for the faint lights in the windows. No one was outside in the middle of the night, especially during a storm.

I hadn't had that nightmare for a long time. It was unnerving. I thought it was gone already, those things solidly behind me. Looking up the dark sky and letting the drops land on my face, I forgot just how nice this felt.

You could say that Ezio was surprised. But that would be a bit of an understatement. Eden, the girl who just woke him and Leonardo with her stifled screams, shaking violently, was now spinning out on the street in the rain, splashing the puddles, her face lit up in a childish smile. Her movements were graceful, flowing, as if becoming one with the water pouring around her. Her light laughter could be heard, echoing in the street. She was happy, unrestrained, not minding the cold wet one bit, catching the moment...

He stood frozen in the doorway, watching as she twirled. It was almost hypnotic, the way her movements slid to the next one, performing some unpredictable dance that only she knew.

And then she noticed him, slowly coming to a stop. The moment was gone, though her sheer happiness was not. He could clearly see her bright smile.

"Eden, what are you doing?" She took a step to the side for balance, and shook her head slightly to clear it.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she laughed, "I love rain."

How she managed to go from hysterical and scared to childish, cheerful and carefree within minutes, he didn't know. "Why are you spinning, though?"

She seemed to think for a second. "My mother used to do it."

"Right. And why are you doing it?"

"Because it's fun!" In a quick stride, she reached him, soaking wet but nonetheless a lot happier than minutes previous. "It's like you forget everything, and just keep spinning!" she lightly chuckled, though there was still that heavy note hidden in her voice, her gaze mildly serious. He shook his head.

"Well, if you get a cold, it'll be completely your fault. Come on, let's get you inside." She obeyed, slipping inside past him before he shut the door. He sighed, taking in that she was shivering slightly. "Only you, Eden, would go dancing in the rain at four in the morning."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're insane," he smirked. "Alright, we should find some dry clothes for you." She nodded, her smile not faltering even as she started to shiver again.

For the first time, he noticed a simply wrought, silver chain around her neck that lay on top of her homespun gray shirt that she must have found around Monteriggoni. It contained two circular, flat pieces of engraved metal on it.

"What are those? They don't look like decorations," he asked as he searched around the room. Leonardo had gone back to sleep and Ezio didn't wish to bother him. She looked down again, and raised her hand to play with the chain.

"They're dog tags. For the military back at home. The troops wear them as identification."

"You were in the army?" he furrowed his eyebrows, surprised.

"No, my boyfriend, Alex, was. They were brought to me when he died. Apparently, he listed me as his next of kin." She pursed her lips, like she did at any mention of her boyfriend. "A malfunction in the weaponry or something. Or some rookie going trigger happy. I don't remember anymore."

"Here," he handed her a dry shirt and trousers, and she nodded gratefully. Retreating to the back of the room, she used a shelf's door as cover as she changed, though he still looked away tactfully.

"Sorry for waking you up, by the way," she suddenly said from behind the shelf.

"That's fine. You sounded like you were in pain though. Are you alright?"

"Yes." There was a pause, "Now I am."

"And before?"

"I... I had a dream about my sister."

"Ah."

"She was yelling at me that it was all my fault. And then the point where I went in a rage, hunting down my mother's murderers. The knife in the stomach that became the turning point of everything."

"I'm sorry," he repeated his words from earlier, when they were talking about it.

"What for?" She finally emerged, hanging her soaking clothing on the same door she used as cover. He noted she did so carefully, so nothing would fall out of the pockets by accident.

"I shouldn't have brought it up, earlier."

"I've been having these dreams for some time, Ezio." She spoke his name softly, and he realized that he only heard her say it twice in the few month he knew her. "About a lot of things. My mom, Eve, Alex, my gang, what could of been. None of it is your fault. It's my own history that I live with."

"No one should have to."

She chuckled bitterly."Are you telling me the memories of your family's execution won't haunt you until the day you die?"

He slid down to sit in one of the arm chairs, resting his elbows on his knees. "Maybe they will. I'll never forget it, I'm sure, but sometimes... I stop thinking about it. Is that wrong?"

"No, and I envy you," she sighed, leaning onto Leonardo's desk beside the chair. "I wish there were times when I'd stop thinking about it all. It's been years, though."

There was a comfortable silence.

"Do you want a hug?" he suddenly asked, and, after a pause, she laughed.

"Of all the things... let me sulk in peace, will you?" she smirked, though she came over to the arm chair. He pulled her down onto his lap, his hands comfortably around her waist. She breathed deeply, her arms wrapping around his neck loosely.

They sat like that in silence. Her hair was still wet, he registered, but he didn't mind. Her breath was warm on his neck, her head lying peacefully on his shoulder. She still smelled like rain, apples and cherries, a uniquely pleasant combination. The quiet was comforting, granting them both solace. There was serenity in that moment, and he was almost afraid to break it.

"Mmm," she was the first to speak, after what seemed like hours. "So. Friends?"

He thought about it. Without even realizing it, she was already his friend, someone he trusted with nearly everything. She helped them out when she could have just left, aided complete strangers she had not ties to. And then she was with him while he was on this strange road, as if it was the most natural thing to keep an assassin company. A partner in crime, someone he could rely on, someone who put a smile on his face. Stating that would simply make it official.

"Friends," he repeated in agreement. That was enough. At least, for now.