1781

-/-

"We don't have to do this," Haytham said quietly.

The words should have been barely audible. In the distance, cannonballs screamed through the air and crashed into walls that buckled and broke under the strain. Men screamed and shouted orders at one another, and- well. War happened. All around them, war.

Connor didn't answer. He was angry, far angrier than Haytham had ever seen him. Not that he really had much experience with Connor, after all. He'd only met the boy a few years ago.

"Connor-"

He deflected a blow, but didn't strike back. It wasn't that he couldn't- Connor was younger than him, and stronger, but also hampered by his own rage. Haytham ducked and dodged around a few more blows, without once moving to strike back.

This finally spurred Connor to speak. "Why don't you fight?" he snarled.

"So you can kill me without guilt?" Haytham asked. "I don't want to die-"

Connor growled at him, and narrowed his eyes.

"And I want you to die even less!"

Connor froze so abruptly, Haytham nearly tripped over him. "You what?" he asked.

"You're my son," Haytham said. "Why would I want you dead?"

"You're a templar," Connor said. "I'm an assassin."

"We're family," Haytham said. When he closed his eyes, he could almost see that rainy day with Jenny, when he had been a boy barely into his teens, still angry and confused, with no idea how the world was supposed to work.

"Don't you trust me?"

"What?"

"Is it because I'm a templar? Is that why you won't tell me?"

"You're thirteen years old and my little brother. I don't give half a flying fuck what side of this war you think you're on now. I wouldn't care if you grew up to be grandmaster of the templars, we're still family and I would trust you with anything."

"None of that matters."

Connor gave Haytham a look that said clearly he had no intention of believing him, but slowly, he lowered his weapons. "I do not understand," he said.

"No," Haytham said. And really, that was his fault- he'd been stupid and let their opposing viewpoints blind him to the fact that no matter what else happened, they were still family. And now here they were, with weapons drawn and no love lost between them.

"Walk away now," Haytham said.

"Is that a threat?"

"What? No." Haytham scowled at him. "It's- we're standing in the middle of a battle, do you really think this is the best time to discuss this?"

"And what is 'this', exactly?" Connor asked.

A cannonball crashed into the walls nearby, the closest so far, and Haytham scowled. "I'm not staying here to be shot," he said. "Come talk to me. Later."

And he left before Connor could answer. There was always the chance, of course, that Connor would decide to fight instead of talk. And if that happened- well, he would have to keep trying, that was all. He-

Something invisible flew through the air and hit Haytham, hard, on the side of the head. He stumbled, but it was- it was Desmond that fell, suddenly feeling sick and off balance as the stone floor rushed up to meet him. He curled in on himself protectively, arms over his face as the last of the hallucination faded away. He wasn't sure if he was trying to shut out the rest of the world, or just keep what little pieces of himself were still him safely inside his head.

"Sorry," someone said overhead. Desmond had to wrack his brains for several seconds before he recognized Shaun's voice. "You were kind of staring into space-"

"It's fine," Desmond said, and forced himself to sit up. "I- needed that." And wasn't it shaming to admit that he couldn't even keep track of his own mind without help. The bleeding effect had been getting steadily worse for weeks- although how could it be the bleeding effect, if he was seeing memories of Haytham's from years after Connor was born?

"I just want it to be over," he said, when Shaun continued to hover. It was December 19th- two days before the end of the world. He would have his wish soon enough, he knew. Even if he somehow survived the upcoming disaster, his mind couldn't last much longer. "What's wrong with a happy ending?"

-/-

1739

-/-

There was no such thing as happy endings, of course.

Jenny had always known that, from the moment her mother died and left her all alone in the world. But it had never seemed as true as it did this morning, not even on the day Desmond had been ripped through time and stolen away from her.

Haytham had finally left. It had been months- nearly half a year, and for a while Jenny had dared to believe that he would stay. A stupid idea, really. Stupid. What had she expected? She'd left when he was a child, and he was hardly going to abandon the templars because of her. Of course he would go back to them. He believed in what they stood for, and honestly Jenny might have been a little disappointed if he'd been able to abandon his ideals so easily.

She didn't agree with him, but she could at least approve of the strength of his conviction.

But… it left her alone, again. Her parents were dead. Her brother was gone. And her one chance at happiness, the only person she had ever loved, was never coming back.

If her life were a story, one of those penny dreadfuls that were so popular at the moment, this would be the moment when everything changed. She had reached rock bottom, and it was time for the deux ex machima that would turn her life upside down. Wasn't she due for a bit of good luck?

No.

Because this was the real world, and that was not how the real world worked.

She let out a deep sigh, one that seemed to empty her out from head to foot. Then she shook her head- and went on with her life.

Because that was how the real world worked. Things got worse, and she just kept fighting, harder and harder as she lost one person after another. She would fight her whole life if she had to, no matter what happened.

She would fight.

And maybe some of that fight would not be in vain. After all, Haytham had seemed receptive to the idea that he could be a loyal templar and her brother at the same time. Maybe he would even remember that. She didn't think he would come back- but maybe she would see him again someday. Maybe, he would remember.

-/-

2012

-/-

In the end, Desmond was left with nothing but regrets and unanswered questions. That was life. Even as Juno and her strange technology drained the life out of him, as he screamed and burned and broke from the pain of it all, some part of Desmond's mind was still calm enough to reflect on that.

There had been happy times in his life, yes- his childhood after he left the farm had been bright and as nearly perfect as anyone's could be. Everything had gone wrong, of course, and even now, ten years later, Desmond still wished with every fiber of his dying body that he was still in that century, still more or less happy. And he wondered why he'd been able to travel there in the first place, and why he'd come back. Even with everything he had seen in the last few months, it still seemed impossible.

Well, he would never know now.

His life had been shorter and stranger and sadder than he had ever expected, and now it was over. Now, at last, came the biggest question of all. It was time to find out what came next, and maybe- just maybe, if he were lucky, see the girl he loved again.

-/-

And... the end. Not a happy ending, but this fic is old and I don't want to bother going back and rewriting it. Hope you enjoyed it anyway.