hold onto your heads, brains, and feels: cause I'm gonna hurt all of them

Clay was a watcher. He'd wanted to be an astronaut growing up, yet acted more like an archeologist. He observed, but usually didn't get too close to the actions. Since his ordeal at Abstergo, and his first Waking, he had trouble connecting with people again. It was hard and Clay didn't have the patience for it anymore. He instead just enjoyed watching.

The days following the fall of the proeathan plantation were… interesting. Very quickly a story started popping up amid those who'd been rescued from the fields, of an angel who'd walked into the plantation without fear of being taken by the proeathans. When she'd come out it had been only after the place had been 'cleansed' of the proeathans, meaning they were safe. Lucy could barely go anywhere without someone asking if she was the angel. So she stayed away from those she'd helped, not handling the intense attention well. Clay barely saw her without Jake and usually she stayed with the children.

And the children. So many children, and all unrelated. They could all talk, sort of- about as much as a proper three year old could talk- and could move around on their own. Walk around, play, draw, solve puzzle games. Demeter kept them, in a play room together, and to keep track of them. There were eight hundred in total, fewer than the former slaves by a long shot, but just as important. Lucy spent a lot of time around them and according to Demeter when she was gone they would become upset for a time before getting past it.

The most interesting thing though was what Jake had brought back to Demeter. When Altair had Woken he'd been livid when he'd been told Jake had brought Cain back with him. They'd screamed at each other a bit and beat on each other, both coming away from the scuffle a bit black and blue, even Altair. But other than that there were no ill will between them for the most part. Altair hadn't been told where Cain was being kept, everyone with a frontal lobe knew he'd go and try and kill him, or at least harass him.

That was where Clay was now. Outside Cain's holding cell. He'd Woken the day after the battle at the plantation and Pluto had told him that he was being held here until they figured out what to do with him. Now he was sitting on the ground, as his cell had no furniture, not doing much of anything. Clay found him interesting. He was the oldest living, sentient, thing on the planet. It was one of a kind, and even among immortals he was strange. The first of their kind, the genesis: the unbreakable Cain who's real name was unknown, who's very existence had been unknown to half the other immortals that had ever been. Until a few weeks ago. In a few weeks Cain had had his chest blown open, been beheaded, and been riddled with bullets. Nothing had kept him Under for more than two weeks.

What a monster.

The cell Demeter had provided to house Cain was fairly large, but not too large, and while couldn't be viewed directly, was monitored via camera. Clay sat in a room thirty feet away, watching the video feed of Cain do… nothing honestly. He didn't know why he kept coming here though, what compelled him to come and sit and watch the first immortal.

"I know you're watching me," Cain said out of no where. He'd never spoken while Clay had been there, though he had watched tapes of him talking to Demeter, wanting food, or entertainment. "I don't know if there's someone there, but I know you're watching me."

"Demeter, is there a way to communicate with him?" Clay asked her.

"Yes," she said and a light appeared on the counsel in front of him. "Press the button and speak."

"Thank you." Clay pressed down on the button, "I'm watching you," he said.

"Yeah? And who's you? I don't know any yous."

"You don't know me."

"You one of Abel's?"

"In a sense, I'm more one of Hawk's."

Cain said nothing, and said nothing for a long while. Clay sat, and waited. They both had forever, literally, Clay could wait Cain out, he just couldn't let himself waste away. "You ever going to let me out of here? I don't like being in this box."

"Once we've decided if you pose a threat."

"You mean once that petty child you call a leader decides if I pose a threat," Cain said.

"He's the oldest of us-

"Child," Cain hissed. "As usual so focused on one piece of the picture, he fails to see the whole."

"And you do?"

Cain chuckled, "I know what you think of me. You think I'm a monster. I regenerate faster than any of you, I fight better than any of you, I'm smarter than you, I'm more capable in all ways. I terrify you. Even Altair is afraid of me, because he knows you can't bottle a twister. He's afraid because I'm better than him, because I am what he wants to be."

"I doubt that. You have nothing, a forgotten legend."

Cain leaned his head back, looking at the ceiling. "He thinks that," Cain said, surprisingly soft. "And maybe he has more friends, a little cluster he considers his 'family', one he ripped out from Death's brittle hands out of selfishness. But he hates it, and there is one person on this blessed rock Altair hates more than me: and that's himself." Cain then laughed, finding is funny. "He leaves me for five hundred years, and forgets what I gave him; what a-" and he said a word Clay didn't know. "Disrespectful child."

"He's not a child anymore," Clay said, "he's old."

"To me, he is a child," Cain said. "And still the self loathing brat I picked up out of the gutter. And he just left me," and there was genuine hate and rage in Cain's voice.

"You were killing people-

"So?" Cain demanded. "He kills people constantly. That's his entire purpose in life; to kill."

"Then what's yours if not the same? You're a merc, and sell your services to the highest bidder."

Cain scoffed, "You know nothing, child. You don't know my history, what I was before Abel. I am what the world requires, and when I found him… I became what I needed to; a sell sword."

Clay was quiet a moment, "And who were you before you found Altair?" he asked.

"Many things," Cain said. "Many times, many stories, many legends," he had a far away tone in his voice, remembering.

"Like what?"

"I do not live in the past like your Altair does. I think only of the present, for neither the past, nor future can touch me. I am forever."

Clay studied Cain for a long time, but Cain didn't start any more information willingly. "Why do you call him Abel? He isn't your brother."

"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb," Cain said. "He is my brother, no matter how much he tries to wash our bond away with the waters of his descendants," and then he chuckled, but Clay didn't know why.

"What do you want Cain?" Clay asked. "You helped us. Why?"

"You're all so stupid," he said, condescending. "Just like that mortal who told me to kill that girl."

"Why didn't you? Why did you help her?"

"Because I wanted to," and Clay leaned back when Cain looked up and right into the camera. He knew exactly where it was and he didn't have Eagle Vision… right? As far as Clay knew he didn't have Eagle Vision. "Because I know what she is."

"And what is that? A new sort of proeathan? She opened Demeter all on her own and-

Cain chuckled and laughed and clearly found Clay hilarious. "No," Cain said, "She's human. Breathtakingly human. The most human human there's probably ever been since before our kind became enslaved the first time."

Clay frowned, "What?"

"You don't know? They didn't tell you? Your own allies didn't tell you what that girl is?"

Clay took his finger off the button, "Demeter, Pluto?" he asked, they didn't reveal themselves. "Demeter, Pluto, what's he talking about?" he demanded. They still said nothing to him.

"They're hiding things from you," Cain said. "They give you only part of the picture, show you what you want to see. They want to do to their kind what they're doing to you; kill them all. Doesn't that sound familiar? I think I saw a record of that while in Apollo, of the day the proeathans woke. Your little Desmond, the savior, said 'I'm going to kill all of you'." Clay swallowed. "And what are computers if not instruments of their master hmm?"

"So Desmond is doing this?"

"Not on purpose perhaps. But he is the one who can do fantastic things. Things, not even I can do, which is something in itself. You think I'm a monster… you haven't seen him. You're used to his eyes, his face. I've seen him, and he will rip a world asunder."

Clay remembered, remembered Solomon's warning. That the antichrist was coming, that he would come, and he was the one who'd go against the angels. He'd destroy everything, civilization as they knew it.

"Do you know what he's doing now?"

"No," Cain said.

Clay groaned in frustration, Cain was barely better than his shades. At least Cain wasn't a part of his mind. "And Lucy? What about her? You said she's more human than any human. What the hell does that mean?" Cain said nothing. "Cain, answer me," he demanded.

"I don't feel like talking anymore. Why should I?"

Clay clenched his teeth, "I can get you out of there," he said. Cain looked up at the camera again, interested.

"Oh can you now?"

"Yes. Answer the question, fully, and I will."

Cain looked thoughtful for a moment, "Why not just ask your AI friends?"

"They aren't answering me."

"Scared," Cain laughed. "Fine, little nameless one, I'll answer your question. Every human on this planet is part proeathan. Every, single, one because the sixteen lines of proeathan blood spread all across the world and after tens of thousands of years, we're all a little proeathan. Though most at such a small level that it isn't noticeable and is part of us. People like Abel, and his little friends, like Desmond, have more. But your girl, your Lucy; she's all human. There is not a drop of proeathan DNA in her body.

"She is an Eve that humanity hasn't seen since the beginning of our species, a real beginning to a whole new ancestral tree. All humans can eventually trace their lineage back to a proeathan, one of the Stars and back even further to primordial creatures of old. We're all made out of the same stuff and the blood of our ancestors still beat in our bodies. But Lucy? She's something new. Synthetics weren't allowed to have children, in fact, I think they were made to be sterile. But isn't she supposed to be perfect?"

Clay stared at Cain, the utter magnitude of what he'd just said a heavy weight on his lap.

"That's why she could open Demeter," he whispered, hand off the button. "She isn't proeathan, she isn't a mix, she's human. Oh my god."

"Are you going to let me out now?" Cain asked. "We had a deal little man. I answer your question and you let me out."

"I have one more-

"That wasn't the deal!" for the first time Cain raised his voice.

"I'm the one who holds the cards here. I can just keep you in there. One more question. Why did you help her? How did yo know this? What are our AIs giving you that the proeathans aren't- Hey! Demeter, what's that!" Clay cried, when the screen suddenly went black.

"I'm sorry Clay," Demeter said, "Hawk is looking for you, I thought him more pressing than what an old man had to say," Demeter said, pleasantly. "Shall I tell him you're coming?"

"No. Put Cain back on god damnit, this is important." Demeter said nothing, but nothing happened, "Demeter!" he snapped.

"Hawk is looking for you, Clay," Demeter said.

Clay glared at the black screen and then got up and left the room, but he didn't go and look for Hawk. He traveled the thirty feet to Cain's cell, a doorless, windowless, room that had an access panel. Clay went up to it and opened it and tapped out a code Jake had told him. "Clay, what are you doing?" Demeter asked.

"Shut up, leave me alone," and a hole appeared in the cell. Not a very big one, but one big enough for a head to fit through. Cain was where Clay had left him, sitting, but when he noticed the panel open he stood up and went over to it. Clay swallowed because he'd never seen Cain up close, his eyes were old, and dangerous.

"So you're the little man I was talking to," Cain said.

"I am," Clay said. "Now answer my question. Why did you save her? How do you know any of this about her? Why did you help us?"

"I helped because I wanted to. Because I don't like being played or manipulated as much as any of you. The AIs told me."

"Why? What are they going to give you that the proeathans won't?"

"It isn't that they won't," Cain said calmly, "Its that they can't."

"Then what is it? What can our side offer you that they can't? They're more advanced, better, equipped, what does a man who lives forever get out of helping us instead?"

Cain leaned forward a bit, his face suddenly very close and Clay had to fight his inner urge to not take a step back. "I get one," he said.

"Get one? Get one what-" but by Cain's look Clay knew. Lucy was an Eve, something original and new. A synthetic that was perfect and purposefully human who wasn't sterile. Who had no proeathan DNA. Hera had made Lucy, had created a woman who had no comparison in the world simply because one didn't exist, because there wasn't anything else like her on earth. She'd been created to be with Desmond (apparently, though she didn't seem particularly worried about him right now) so why couldn't Hera just… make another one? One for Cain.

"Let me out," Cain said, pulling him back out of his own thoughts.

"I will," Clay said, "I just don't have the code right now. I'll be back," and then he typed in the code to seal the cell back up to Cain's enraged cry. Clay stood there a moment, having trouble breathing.

Then he left, because standing here wasn't helping him.

—

Demeter wasn't a place to make war. She was a place to grow, to nurture, to catalog. She had places for everyone to sleep, but not places for people to fight, or to train. She wasn't made for that. But she'd made it work. The attack on the plantation had bolstered their number from a few dozen to nearly three thousand (not including the children). They had numbers now, all of them were in their twenties and thirties, rarely there were people in their forties, but none older. They'd been killed if they were older or younger than the proeathans target age range.

The AIs had given them an army, but it lacked skill, and ability and not everyone wanted to be in it. But most did. Most wanted their agency back after what the proeathans had done to them, after stripping them of their humanity, to be able to do what they wanted because they wanted to, not because they were told.

Clay was watching the army train, or part of it. The immortals and the Assassins had practice in training an army, and they were. In groups, across several large rooms Demeter had cleared for such a purpose, apparently with the help of Pluto, the former slaves had been separated and were being trained. At a distance he could see Lucy, teaching a group how to shoot. It had been some time since they'd attacked the plantation, since Clay had spoken with Cain. A few days at least. He'd yet to let the ancient out, and he hadn't told anyone what he'd said. Lucy had stopped hiding away from the other people too to teach proeathan weapons and to some extent, tactics.

Clay stared at her from the back of the gun range. She wasn't quite in her element here, as she wasn't a practiced teacher like the immortals or Assassins were, but she was doing well. She was good at explaining and good at showing the correct way to do something. Also she was a girl and a lot less scary then most of the other 'drill sergeants'.

She looked so… normal. And yet she was literally unique. There were no other synthetics, or at least, none like her. He'd grilled Demeter as best he could and she'd confessed that yes, synthetics were sterile. But if what Cain had said was true, then that meant Lucy wasn't. What that meant for the gene pool with their limited numbers was astounding.

And then there was what Cain had said their AI would give him. They'd give him a synthetic like Lucy. Clay had no idea what a man like Cain would do with such a woman but he didn't like what his imagination came up with.

Lucy noticed him after a few minutes and walked over to him. "Hey, Clay," she said, "Come to join us?" she asked with a bit of a smile. Clay let himself smile back, this wasn't the woman who'd put him through hell. Lucy had been nice to him yeah, but she also hadn't stopped hurting him, hadn't made the Animus treatments stop. But this Lucy wasn't that Lucy. He didn't hate her, but he couldn't separate her from the woman who'd helped do this to him.

"No, I'm fine," Clay said.

"You sure?" she asked.

"I prefer to watch," Clay said.

She shrugged, "If you say so."

"Lucy," he said when she turned to go back to her class. She looked back at him, "How are you?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

"How are you?" he asked again.

"Fine," she said. "Is everything all right?"

His mouth opened and closed a few times, "Honestly? I have no idea."

"Are you okay, Clay?" she asked him.

He blinked and then appearing behind her was a shade, a short woman with dark skin and black, natural hair, but her facial structure was different than Lucy's. Clay's mouth opened a little and he stared. He knew what he was looking at. He was looking at his ancestor. The one who from which perhaps every human could trace their ancestry through. The Eve. And another Eve, a modern Eve.

"Clay are you okay?" Lucy asked.

"Atlantis comes," the Eve said, staring at Clay and then her eyes turned white. He closed his eyes and pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead.

"Clay," she touched his arm.

"I'm fine," he said.

"Are you though?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he said. "I just… was remembering something."

"Which was?" she asked.

He opened his eyes a little and squinted at her, for a brief moment the ancient Eve's face overlaid across Lucy's face, distorting it a bit, and he closed his eyes again. "I don't know," he confessed. "Something important that I can't fully remember," he gently pounded his temple with the heel of his hand.

"Maybe you should go rest?" she asked.

"Where's Hawk?" he asked.

"Sector three, why?"

He looked at her for a long moment, "I just need to talk to him. Its important. Thanks," and then he walked away and went and found Hawk.

Hawk was with the tech people who while wanted to help, also didn't want to be on the front lines. But there was no shortage of need for people who could handle comm lines or learn to fly a numia since according to Pluto, they'd be getting more. Hawk was doing that part, though Pluto was handling the actual pilot instruction.

Hawk looked pissed, sitting alone, none of the people he was in charge of were near him and he was tapping angrily at his computer. Clay slid into the seat across from him. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it isn't as big a deal as you're making it," Clay said.

"Yeah? And what'd you know, Finch?" Hawk growled, glaring at him.

"Because I know you," Clay said. "It isn't that important. Don't forget this 'is why you keep me around'," he smirked a little. Hawk was a guy without a conscious, without ethos, sometimes things didn't always click like they were supposed to. And that was where Clay came in. Unlike Altair and Ezio who wouldn't notice or wouldn't care, Clay always told Hawk when he was being stupid. He was, in a way, Hawk's conscious.

Hawk glowered at him, "What do you want?"

"We might have a problem."

"Yeah? What?" And Clay told him, told him what Cain had said and the deal he'd made with the first immortal. Hawk's anger, over whatever it was, vanished, and he was staring openly at Clay in wonder.

"And you know that's true?"

"True as I know and-" he grabbed Hawk's arm as he went to get up, "You're not allowed to tell her or poke her with needles," he said, keeping Hawk sitting.

"But if what you say is true this could-

"I know," Clay said. "But she doesn't need to know."

"Why?"

"You're so stupid sometimes, you know that?"

"Finch," Hawk growled.

"As it is she's trying to figure out what to do with her body and heart, on her terms, can you imagine the pressure it'd put on her knowing what she is? She's a beginning and that'd be an amazing amount of pressure to reproduce. Even just once. The boon it'd give our species just to have that one human who wasn't related to anyone. You aren't telling her, not unless she decides on her own. Understand?"

"But-

"Imagine if it was Sarah," and Hawk went still. "What if she was one? What if she suddenly had this pressure to choose the best man she could. Would she pick you? Would she stand up to it?"

"She would," Hawk said, "But she'd hate me."

"Which is why we aren't telling her."

"Okay," Hawk said, and Clay knew that was the end of it. But he'd done exactly what he normally did; acted like a conscious for a man without, the ethos and pathos for a man with only logos.

"And what should I do about Cain?"

"Don't be a take back," Hawk said. "You said you'd let him out. So do it."

"But-

"But what?"

"What if he does something?"

"He hasn't done anything yet," Hawk said.

"He's been locked up," Clay said.

Hawk regarded him, "I don't think Cain is as insane as Altair wants us to believe," he said.

"… What?"

"His actions aren't the actions of a madman," Hawk said, "And we heard him over the comms talking to Crow. He doesn't sound crazy."

"Neither do I," Clay said, "Or you, and yet here we are."

Hawk's mouth went thin. "From what you've told me, what I've witnessed, I think he's a lot more with it than Altair gives him credit for. I mean, Altair's afraid of him-

"We all are," Clay said.

"Speak for yourself, kid."

"You don't count. You literally can't feel fear."

"Wouldn't it be in Altair's interest to make sure we're afraid of him too?"

Clay sat there and had to think about that. "But why?" Clay asked.

"I don't know," Hawk shrugged, "Or I could be blowing it out my ass. Cain has all the makings for a good villain, but only in this story."

"Come again?"

"Everyone's a bad guy in someone's story," Hawk said. "Except their own."

"Cain told me he becomes what the world needs him to become," Clay said.

"And it seems like the world is in need of a face for this horror," Hawk abruptly stood up and picked up his computer.

"Where are you going?"

"To talk to an old man, wanna come?" Hawk asked and started to walk away. Clay got up and followed quickly.

—

Cain was still in his cell and Hawk opened the door a bit. Clay could see inside over Hawk's shoulder. The first immortal was sitting on the ground and looked up when it opened. "Hello," he said

"You haven't tried to escape," Hawk said, sounding almost surprised.

"I don't need to. You're going to let me out."

"And why would we do that? Honestly I'm surprised you've managed so well in this cell after the last hundred years."

Cain blinked at them slowly, "At some point you stop caring," he said. "I knew I would go Under, and then I would Wake, and then I'd have four days before I went Under again. After a while it just got boring and I didn't care anymore."

"That is fascinating," Hawk said, meaning it. "And yet you're still angry at Altair."

Cain stood slowly and went over to to the hole Hawk had made, one too small to climb through but Clay still swallowed. Cain looked down at Hawk. "Would you be angry at your brother if he betrayed you?" he asked, "If you loved him and he hurt you? If you gave him everything and he shit on you?" Hawk said nothing, "Altair deserves my anger, and then some," he said in a soft, hard, tone.

"I can let you out," Hawk said.

"Then let me out," Cain said.

"What will you do if I do?"

"I don't know," Cain smiled.

"Who will you hurt?" Clay asked.

Cain looked at Clay, "The only person I care about hurting is my brother," he said. "The rest of you are nothing. Stay out of my way and I have no reason to touch you."

"Will the proeathans come looking for you?" Hawk asked.

"No," Cain said, "They've learned I work better when given a task and allowed to do it on my own."

"So they won't notice you're gone?"

"They might think I'm dead, but no," he said.

"What are you going to do with her?" Clay suddenly asked.

"What?" Cain was honestly confused.

"You said the AIs were going to give you an Eve, what are you going to do with her?"

"What I do is no concern to you, little man," he said. "Now let me out, we had a deal," he turned back to Hawk. "I can tell you things you dream about," he said lowly. "I know about you. Altair's youngest song bird," he reached through the hole and Hawk didn't move when Cain touched him, surprisingly light. "You have a mind like a trap, yet can't feel anything. You aren't even afraid of me."

"I'm not," Hawk said. Cain smiled cunningly, his ice blue eyes sharp. "What could you possibly tell me?" he asked, voice hard. Cain withdrew his hand.

"There are mysteries in this world," he said, "I know most of them."

"Bullshit," Hawk growled.

"Well not the modern ones. But I know a lot of them. Ones that would interest you."

"Altair said you were born just before the fall of Rome, sorry, but there isn't that much mystery there-" and Hawk drew up when Cain laughed.

"Is that just how old he thinks I am? Oh what a foolish boy," he said, amused, "I'm much older than that."

"Yeah? How much?" Hawk asked.

"I had a friend once, an Indian prince named was Siddhartha," and Clay watched Hawk's eyes grow huge. "I had another friend," he said, "her name was Mary, lovely Jewish woman, easy on the eyes, and a bit easy in bed too. Had the most remarkable child." Hawk was staring at Cain fully now, realizing what he was looking at. "I'm very old, Micheal," he said, "and I can wait you out if you don't want to let me out of here. Or, you can, and benefit from my knowledge, my age, my ability."

Hawk went to open the cell, Clay grabbed his wrist. "You won't hurt us?" Clay asked.

"A god doesn't concern itself with mortals," Cain said. "I won't touch you."

Hawk looked at Clay, who swallowed again. "Let go," Hawk said. Reluctantly Clay released Hawk's wrist and Hawk typed in the code. The cell door irised open and Cain stood there a moment. Then he walked past them, like they weren't there and clearly no longer worth his time. What had they just done?

now who's go back and reread every part Cain was ever in or mentiond? *raises hand dramatically*