Sorry, sorry, sorry x 1000! Just so you know, yes, I live... And here's chapter 13 of our adventure! Thank you for waiting all this time! I will try to upload the next chapter as soon as possible! Uh... Nonw of the Assassin's creed III characters belong to me. Ubisoft had got them all! Anyway, please enjoy! And sorry not much Connor in this one...

Like father, like...son?

You walked around the dimly lit streets of Boston. The air was cold, but you were preventive enough to use warm clothes, knowing how the weather was at night.

You were surprised to see so many people. Normally, Boston's streets would be empty at night, if not, the only souls around would be drunken people or hookers.

Your steps were slow and tranquil. There was no need to rush and you appreciated once in a while a good walk around the city.

Connor had gone to Kanatahséton, his native village, to pay his friends and elders a visit. He had offered you to come, but you had declined the offer.

You knew you would just feel awful, not knowing how to even express yourself as you were clearly not familiarized with Kanien'keha's language nor with its traditions. Maybe it was a childish reason, but you didn't want Connor to feel uncomfortable.

As you kept walking you saw a group of kids playing with a dog. A small smile crept to your face – It was hard to tell who was happier, the dogs or the kids.

Maybe Boston wasn't totally scary at night.

You hummed lightly while you walked towards the hotel you were staying at. With Connor away from the homestead, you felt you needed some time to yourself, so you decided to take a couple of days off. Achilles had argued, telling you it was dangerous to go alone, but you could take care of yourself. So far, you hadn't had any problems, and you've been at Boston for three days.

Maybe it was all you needed. Your relationship with Connor, that is if you could call that a relationship, was not going anywhere. Coming to Boston changed your mind, seeing all those young couples and all. If everything had gone the normal route, you would have a husband already. The idea crossed your mind once or twice before, but now it was stronger. You had already chosen with who you wanted to spend your life.

Still, there was a minor problem.

Connor, Ratonhnhaké:ton, Kenway.

You were sure how you felt for him, but you were not sure of how he felt for you.

A doubt that hunted you. Every single day.

Does he…?

Then again, you had always paired him with someone like Myriam; strong, beautiful, stubborn, smart…

But let's not lower your self-esteem. You were not that bad…

Yeah, sure.

You opened the wooden door of the hotel. The owners, a friendly old couple, the Stewart's, welcomed you warmly.

You greeted both of them before going upstairs, where your room was located.

It was a simple room: a bed, little nightstand and a small bathroom. There was no need for more.

You took off your shoes and sat down in the worn out bed. It was old, but still comfortable.

"Good night me,"

With those last words you proceeded to sleep. Or tried to.

Somewhere in the middle of the night the growing noise from downstairs woke you up. You guessed some customers at the hotel bar were getting friendly.

A soft groan left your lips. Just what you needed.

Stifling a yawn with your hand, you stood up and walked to the room door. If they had woken you up, they might as well apologize, right?

Groggily you walked downstairs, the drowsiness had not completely washed out of your body, and you stumbled in almost every step. You made it downstairs without major accidents.

Every pinch of sleep left your body at the person you saw. If you were not wrong, which you were not, the man standing right in front of you, glaring everyone around was none other than Haytham Kenway. Impossible to forget the face that complicated Connor's life.

His grayish hair was tied neatly in a low ponytail, his tree corn hat hung loosely from his right hand. His brown eyes were hard, experienced. The blue vest he wore was in perfect state, so much for being a Templar.

You wanted to run upstairs and hide in your room, but decided against it.

"Mister, I beg you pardon." Layla, the woman of the old couple said.

"Oh, it is okay." His British accent flew around the almost empty building. "I just wanted to relax, and, this…" He pointed at a man who was crouched on the ground clutching his stomach. "Man... just ruined my mood. I will not allow such a behavior at a respectable place like this, ma'am."

The old woman smiled at him, gratefulness written all over her face. Probably the drunken man had been giving her problems. "Thank you sir. Again, I apologize. We normally don't have these problems."

Haytham bowed, knowing his place before the owner. "As I said, it is fine."

He turned around and his sharp, narrowed eyes met [E/c] colored ones.

You could have sworn the intake of air you took was heard even by those who were sleeping.

They were father and son, but their eyes… they were so different.

Connor and Haytham were like day and night. Like sun and moon. And you wondered… Had faith already played its cards? Were those two destined to fight? Would Connor have to kill his own blood?

"Do I know you?" He asked, walking closer to you.

The tension that overtook your body was obvious. All about that man screamed danger.

"I don't think so, sir."

He studied your face for a moment. Calculating eyes watching your every move. But you will not pull back. You would not hide from Haytham Kenway, even if the price to pay was high.

He put back on his hat. "Very well, Miss."

With that, he turned around and left the place. Air finally got correctly to your lungs and you found yourself sighing loudly.

You had had enough of Boston. The next day you returned to the homestead just to receive a long lecture from Achilles about naïve people, and to find out that the Assassin hadn't come back yet.

Seeing Haytham Kenway in person had had a great impact on you.

Somehow you knew Achilles was right. You wanted it to be different, but as you gazed into his eyes... there was no hope for the Templar leader.

Haytham Kenway had to die, and his son would be the one to end with his life, you were almost sure of that.