Connor had to drive Haytham home a week later. If his mother was a horrible backseat driver, his father was another story.
"Where did you learn how to drive?! Careful! Watch the curb, you idiot!"
Connor scowled at his father before taking a sharp turn on purpose onto their street. "My mother taught me," he said, hoping to get his father to shut up.
"What happened to you then? She was a good driver!"
Mission failed.
Connor pulled into their driveway, rolling his eyes as he father grumbled again. He bit back a smart remark when he saw his father's arm. It was in a sling and Haytham had his coat draped over it. Connor picked up his father's bag, looking around in worry. What if those guys were here?
"Don't worry. William may be a twit, but he does keep his promises. I believe he said Altaïr will personally be in charge of our safety," Haytham sighed, getting out of the car.
Connor followed, hurrying to the front door to open it. Haytham nodded in thanks, pausing in the entryway. "Hold on," he said, holding his good arm out before Connor could continue in. Haytham crept forward looking into the weapon room. He walked through the whole first floor of the house.
Connor gulped. Would this have to become normal for them?
He shook his head, trying to steel himself; he and his father had to be strong if they wanted to get through this. Connor took a deep breath, standing up straight. Achilles had taught him a lot since he started helping out, and the lessons with his father hadn't stopped either.
He could protect himself- he had nothing to worry about in up close and personal fight. It was the guns and other stuff he was worried about.
"It's safe," his father called from the living room.
Connor walked in, seeing his father leaning against the wall near the stairs. "Do you want me to take this upstairs?" he asked, holding the bag up.
Haytham waved him off, nodding. Connor walked up the stairs, glancing back to make sure his father was okay. He quickly set the bag in Haytham's room and hurried back downstairs. Haytham was pinching the bridge of his nose.
Connor waited at the bottom of the stairs, listening for what to do next.
Haytham took a big breath, looking at Connor. "We are not going to be sleeping in separate rooms for now. You can have the couch. The chair would be better for my arm so it'll keep me off my side. I also have warned Mr. Davenport and the Johnstons of our situation so they're in the loop. I asked Eliza and Peter to keep Ellie out of it, though."
Connor inwardly sighed in relief. The thought of Ellie being as scared as he was made his stomach churn a little. He wished he could talk to her about all of this. He wished he could tell her how scared he was for his father and himself. How scared he was for his grandparents and Jenny. How scared he was for Desmond and Kadar. He just wanted to tell someone, and he wasn't going to tell his father. He had to help his father, not worry him.
"Now, Desmond is going to come over with your homework. He will be staying with us until this is all over. William suggested it to make Altaïr's life a little easier," Haytham said, walking toward the stairs.
Connor nodded, watching his father walk up the stairs. He wished he could be as calm as Haytham sounded. He wasn't even close.
Connor sat down on the couch, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.
He felt like he was in some action thriller, and he wasn't liking the feeling one bit.
That night, Connor found himself sitting on the couch beside Desmond, watching The Amazing Spider-man.
Haytham was up in his office, probably working on the case, even though he should've been recovering.
"Hey, Connor?"
Connor glanced at Desmond. "Yeah?"
"Would I sound like a pussy if I said I was scared?" he mumbled, not looking at him.
Connor blinked in surprise, shaking his head. "No, I'm scared too."
Desmond let out a sigh of relief. "I mean, this has happened before, but I've never seen my Dad look so worried before. I think that's why it bothers me so much this time around," he explained, holding onto a coach pillow and resting his chin on it.
Connor nodded. "I'm just really scared for everyone else," he admitted, pausing the movie.
Desmond nodded. "Yeah, I don't know what would happen if Kadar or Malik got hurt. These bastards also got Altaïr once already. They're the ones that did that thing to his finger and gave him the scar."
Connor glanced at Desmond. "Why do you guys have the same scar?"
Desmond grinned sadly. "I told you; this happened before. Some thug broke into the house and my mom had to fight him off. I got cut with some glass trying to get out of a broken window. It's just a coincidence."
Connor nodded, scratching at a scar on his cheek. He didn't remember how he got it. His mother had said something about falling out of a tree when he was young.
Desmond yawned, resting his head back against the couch. "I just hope these assholes get caught before they hurt anybody else."
Connor hummed in agreement.
The sooner, the better.
Connor and Desmond hung around each other as much as they could at school. Connor was just glad that there was someone else who understood what was going on. He was suddenly envious of all of the other students. They didn't have to look over their shoulders every two seconds.
The last day of finals finally came a week later and Connor basically raced out to his locker after he was let out. He quickly grabbed his coat, stuffing his books in his locker. The constant worry was replaced with a big sigh of relief for a few moments. He had done it. He had gotten through his first semester of Saratoga High School. He stiffened when he saw Ellie walk by with Claudia, staring at her back as he walked away.
Connor felt his shoulders slump. He wished that he could walk beside her like he used to before this all happened. Shaking his head, he shrugged on his coat. He had to get back home. He walked down the hallway, looking for Desmond, halting and hiding behind a corner when he came across a familiar person talking to Desmond.
Edward Braddock had a sickeningly charming smile on his face as he patted Desmond's shoulder. Desmond didn't look pleased. Connor frowned, remembering how his father reacted to the man. He had found out shortly after that Braddock had an adopted son going to this school; that son turned out to be one of Hickey's friends. Slater Braddock had been the artist behind the papers being put on his locker as well.
Connor took a deep breath before walking toward them, being as quiet as he could. "What I'm saying is that it's alright if you want to talk," Braddock was saying.
Desmond shrugged off his hand. "Yeah…I'm good, thanks."
"Are you sure? I-"
"You ready Des?" Connor asked, causing Braddock to jump.
Braddock's lip curled as he looked at Connor. "Ah, Kenway."
Connor returned the hard glare. "Braddock."
Braddock's smile turned into an almost disgusted look. "Well, don't want to keep you from getting home. Haytham's side might give out."
Connor almost punched the man in the face. He gripped the strap of his bag, gently pushing Desmond toward the door.
Desmond turned to Connor after they were almost to his car. "Who the hell was that?"
Connor frowned. "A man my father used to fence with. Let's just say they didn't like each other."
:
Desmond shook his head. "What a dick. He asked why I was upset and started to pry a lot. I didn't say anything though. The asshole."
Connor froze. "Why would he care about some random kid walking by him?"
"Hell if I should know. He's really shady," Desmond paused when they got to the Mustang, leaning over the hood, "Dude, what if the dick is in on the whole situation we're in right now?"
Connor shook his head, throwing his bag in the back seat. "I don't know, but that's a problem if he is."
Desmond shook his head, getting in the car. "Shit, how do those guys in all those action movies deal with this?"
Connor shook his head. "I don't know."
Connor was left with a queasy feeling as he pulled out of the parking lot.
Perhaps he should tell his father about what happened.
Connor opened his eyes when he heard a noise. He groggily looked around the room. Desmond was on the other couch, snoring away. The dim light from the street illuminated Haytham's dark figure, who was also up and looking towards the door. He looked at Connor, motioning for him to get up.
Connor rolled off the couch and quickly shook Desmond awake. He held a finger to his lips for silence when Desmond started as his father walked towards the entryway.
"Dad!" he hissed quietly. What was he thinking?! His arm was in a damn sling, for God's sake!
Haytham hid behind the edge of the entryway, reaching for one of the swords hanging above the TV. A small metallic clang sounded as he pulled it to him. Connor looked at him in bewilderment. So, those weren't decorative after all.
Haytham twirled the sword in his hand, peering around the entryway. Connor's breath hitched when he saw a dark figure waiting in the entryway of the foyer. He gulped down the lump in his throat, heart racing a mile a minute.
Someone was definitely in their house.
The figure stepped forward and Haytham swung the sword. The man yelped in surprise, blocking it with what looked like a baseball bat. "Get out the back!" Haytham shouted, easily knocking the bat from the intruder's hands.
Connor tugged at Desmond's shirt and he sprinted. They dodged the intruder as they raced into the weapon room. Connor yelped when another figure appeared. Connor went cross eyed staring at the gun pointed at his face. A silencer was on the end. "See ya," the man growled.
Connor's body reacted before his mind did. Achilles' orders for fighting in close quarters echoed in his head. Haytham's lessons about disarming someone also came rushing back as he surged forward.
Connor grabbed the man's wrist, twisting it sharply. The shot went wide, putting a hole in the drywall as Connor landed a punch in the man's elbow, effectively dislocating it. The man screamed in pain and dropped the gun. Connor kicked it away, punching the man in the jaw like Achilles taught him to.
The man slumped to the floor, unconscious, as Desmond pointed the gun at another intruder. Desmond yelped and shot. The bullet hit the man in the shoulder and he fell with a cry of pain. Connor saw something out of the corner of his eye, barley ducking in time to avoid the baseball bat on course for his head. He found himself cornered near the back part of the room.
The man with the bat rushed forward again. Connor numbly reached for the wall of weapons. His hand found a handle, and he swung. The tomahawk blocked the incoming bat, giving Connor a chance to kick. His foot connected with the man's knee, forcing the man to stumble back with a curse. Connor brought the flat side of the tomahawk around, hitting the man in the head.
Connor gasped when another one showed up, but suddenly slumped to the floor in front of another figure. Gold eyes flashed in the darkness as the figure turned and took care of another intruder.
When the lights flickered on, Connor jumped. Haytham was standing at the entryway, hand hovering over the light switch. The bloody sword was on the floor, but Connor tried not to look. Desmond was cowering in the corner near him, eyes darting around in fear. Connor released the breath he didn't know he was holding. He loosened his hold on the tomahawk to ease his aching knuckles. His knuckles ached from gripping it so hard.
He took deep breaths, trying to calm down. He could literally feel his heart jumping around in his chest.
What the hell just happened?
"Are you all right?" Haytham panted, clutching at his side. He grunted in pain as he leaned against the wall.
Connor nodded, realizing that his hands were shaking. He looked at Desmond, who was also nodding. Connor gulped, looking at where Altaïr towered over the man Desmond shot.
"Who sent you?" he growled, planting a booted foot on the bullet wound.
The man howled in pain, glaring up at the FBI agent. More agents came in the room, confining the men who were unconscious or too injured to move. One of them talked to Haytham. Haytham waved him off, glaring at the man Altaïr was stepping on.
"Go to hell!" the man snarled.
Altaïr's face went blank as he increased the pressure. "I'm not going to ask again. Who," he stomped again, "Sent. You?"
Connor realized why Altaïr intimidated him so much at that moment. Police sirens sounded outside.
"Well?" Altaïr asked the now howling man, stamping down on his shoulder.
"Birch! Birch sent us!"
"Did Birch send you anywhere else?"
"Another house! Another house with Kenways! Please! Just get off please!"
Altaïr grunted, pulling his foot away and turning towards Haytham. Connor felt his heart drop. Other Kenways…
"Haytham, my men are there. I made sure your parents were protected," Altaïr said, pulling his phone out.
"They better be," Haytham snarled.
Connor's heart rate went up even more at the expression on his father's face. Haytham looked pale.
Altaïr pushed a button on his phone, bringing it to his ear. "Holden, do you have anything?" he said, walking out of the room.
Haytham slumped against the wall, covering his face.
Connor pulled himself up, trying to stand as he dropped the tomahawk. His knees wobbled a little as he made his way over to his father. He leaned heavily against the wall. "Do you need your medicine?" he asked, noticing how Haytham's face was also contorted with pain.
Haytham shook his head. Connor wasn't convinced. They were ushered out by other agents, and were put in an ambulance. Desmond's face was blank the whole ride to the hospital.
Connor was still trying to wrap his mind around what had happened. Did his father kill someone? What was going to happen now?
What if it happened again?
Would they ever get to go home?
Haytham was admitted into the ER so they could check his arm. Connor and Desmond were checked over by the various nurses and doctors while more FBI agents stood nearby.
Connor was ushered out by a nurse after they declared that he was fine. He was led to where Haytham was. Desmond was already there, sitting in one of the chairs near the bed. Haytham was sitting on the bed, holding his phone to his ear. "Yes mother, Connor is all right as well. No one was hurt."
He paused, listening for a while.
"Mother, tell Father that I want both of you and Jenny to return to London until this case is over. No buts!"
Connor sighed in relief. His grandparents and aunt were okay. He sat down next to Desmond, clasping his hands in his lap. Haytham continued arguing with Tessa, not taking no for an answer.
Connor sat quietly as Haytham hung up, only for his father to become preoccupied with Desmond's dad and Altaïr. As they discussed the case, Connor excused himself, walking toward the stairs. He walked up to the top of the stairwell, slumping against the wall beside the exit.
The fact that he or someone else he cared about could have died tonight hit him like a cannonball to the stomach.
He leaned back against the wall by the door, taking deep breaths.
He pulled his cellphone out, feeling a lump form in his throat as the thoughts overwhelmed him. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to talk to somebody.
He scrolled down to her name, pausing before pressing the call button. She wouldn't answer. She probably was asleep anyway. Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he stared up at the ceiling and tried to gulp back the lump in his throat... unsuccessfully.
Rage started to boil in his gut, replacing the fear and sadness. Why did those assholes have to hurt so many people? And just for money, for christ's sake!
Connor clenched his fists. Those guys hurt his Aunt and his father and they were close to hurting him.
He pushed himself up, standing tall.
He didn't have the influence, knowledge, or experience he needed to help with this case- that was his father's job. But he knew that if those assholes tried anything again, Connor wasn't going to be afraid next time.
Like Altaïr, he had a vendetta now too.
He clenched his jaw, walking back down the stairs.
It was time to see if the 'Kenway spine' was going to support him.