Notes: Tripping balls From something Church gave him, or an insane near-death experience induced dream sequence? I'll let you decide. Either way, I feel stoned just writing this insanity. ...That being said, I'm pretty proud of this monstrosity of a chapter, lol.

Also, warning for some sexual content because why not?

Chapter 26: Fragments of a Dream

Shay had no idea where he was, only that he had been in pain and now... Now there was nothing. Only blackness. He thought he heard a gunshot, but that was all he was aware of. He hauled himself to his feet and walked ahead, or at least in the direction he thought might be north – not that the ground looked any different from the sky. How had he gotten to this place? He couldn't remember. The last memory he could conjure of was of Haytham – fucking Haytham senseless, more specifically. He had to find him. He was in this place somewhere, Shay could sense it. As he walked, the darkness became lighter and faded slowly into the streets of Greenwich that he knew well enough to navigate blindfolded, so the haziness did nothing to throw him off course. ...But hadn't he been in Boston? Shay shook his head, and followed the light. As he did, he thought he heard Liam calling to him. Liam would be able to find Haytham. Shay broke into a run, the fuzzy shapes of his surroundings becoming clearer as he did. He stopped outside the gates to Fort Arsenal for a moment and headed inside. It was empty, but he heard the scratching of a pen on parchment as he passed Haytham's office. He looked up, and gave Shay a lazy smile. He's here, Shay told himself, locking the door behind him, it'll be fine – I must of hit my head. It felt strange, like he wasn't in control of his own body as he leaned over and kissed Haytham timidly on the cheek.

"You are distracting me, Shay." Haytham purred and gave him a knowing wink.

"I'll show you distractin'." Shay retorted, and dropped to his knees as he crawled under the desk.

"Do not be such a bloody dasher." Haytham said as Shay unlaced his pants and flicked his tongue across the already hardened length of his cock. Shay let his eyes slide closed and swallowed him whole. He was where he belonged, on his knees in front of Haytham, nothing else mattered.

"...Love you." Shay breathed, as Haytham gave up trying to do his paperwork and moaned Shay's name in desperation. But suddenly, his breath caught in his throat and pain like a white hot blade lanced through his chest. The vision faded, and was replaced with the Morrigan's cabin. Or, at least he thought it was. The pain was blinding, and his surroundings swam in and out of focus. He tried to get up, to warn his crew that was something was wrong, but he couldn't budge an inch.

"Hold him still! If he moves too much he'll bleed out!" A voice barked in an irritable tone. Hold who still? ...Was that Ben Church?

"I'm tryin', damn it!" That... That had been Liam.

The pain vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced by bone-deep cold and total silence aside from the sound a fire crackling merrily nearby. Shay sat up and yawned, stretching the stiffness from his limbs. Well, that was a strange dream, he thought to himself. Liam was already awake, sitting by the fire with his arms wrapped around his knees. They were more than welcome in the manor, Achilles had told them, but they were perfectly content to camp out on the homestead. It was peaceful, and no one bothered them. ...So much better than the noise and stink of New York, even without four barely standing walls to shelter them. They had each other. That was all they needed, really.

"Good mornin', Shay." Liam said with a nod. "Sleep well?"

"I had the strangest dream. Liam, I was a Templar." Shay told him and settled down beside him in a spot that they'd cleared the snow from.

"Aye, you are a Templar. Idiot." Liam replied and kissed him softly. Shay let him brush his fingers through his hair, and silently cursed the chill air. All he wanted to was to let Liam have his way with him, but he'd probably wind up with frost bite on his cock. Frankly, that wasn't something he wanted to risk. It was one of his best assets, after all. "That's enough, you've got to hang on. Haytham's fallin' apart worryin' about you. It's pretty damned pathetic to watch, actually."

"...Haytham?" Shay mumbled, as Liam let go of him. He was falling then, a bullet in his back and that damned manuscript clutched tight to his chest. He could see the icy water below as it rose to meet him, and he closed his eyes as the pain came. He screamed as the cold engulfed him, and he fell not into the Atlantic, but into his bed on board the Morrigan again.

"Give me a towel – hurry! Damn it I'm losing him!" He heard Benjamin shout and it felt like a bear was trying to sit on his chest. Each feeble breath he took felt like a little bit of his life being squeezed out of him. "...And get him the bloody fucking hell out of here!"

"Damn it Haytham, wait outside!" Mills? Was that Mills? And why were they telling Haytham to leave. Why couldn't he move, or speak? ...And why did he feel like he didn't belong in his own body?

"I can't leave! You don't understand! I never... I never told him that I-!"

"Out! Now!" Liam and Mills barked in unison, followed by a few quietly muttered apologies and the slamming of a door.

Shay stared in terror at the closed door to the Brighid's Captain's cabin. He was really in for it this time. He'd get a flogging for sure. Steeling himself, he rang the bell and tried to ignore the snickering of his father's crew members as they watched him take the walk of shame.

"Come in, Shay. Get the lead out, boy." His father called from the other side of the door. He felt small, all of a sudden. But he wasn't small, he was damn tough for a kid his age. He threw open the open the doors, and decided he hadn't been in the wrong when he shot that pirate captain trying to board the ship. He didn't deserve to be punished.

"Father, I don't regret anythin'." Shay said resolutely. "I made some mistakes, aye, but you and the men are still here because o' it. I could o' hid like you said to, but then you mightn't be here t'be angry."

"I know that, Shay. Just remember that life is precious; don't ever kill without reason, and don't give up. Keep fightin'. The worst is over. If you make it through tonight, you'll be just fine."

"Tonight...?"

The vision faded to black, no, not black. It was just dark. He was lying awake in bed in Fort Arsenal, with Haytham curled up against his back. He sighed quietly and basked in the warmth of Haytham's bare skin against his. If he listened closely, he could hear Haytham's steady heartbeat and feel his breath against his neck. He wanted to stay in this moment forever. There was no pain or uncertainty, only safety and comfort.

"I love you." Shay whispered, knowing Haytham couldn't hear the words as he was do deeply asleep.

"Don't forget your purpose." Haytham murmured, and kissed the side of his neck. ...His purpose? What was that? What could possibly be more important that here and now? What mattered more than simply resting with Haytham?

The warmth became unbearable, and the scent of smoke cloyed at him. Shay thrashed, and found himself stumbling through a burning building. He found Monro, wounded and dying inside. Gasping for breath, and drenched in sweat, he managed to drag the older Templar outside. Shay ignored the pain of his own burns as he tried to keep Monro alive. He'd given him hope, direction, a reason to keep fighting. As he watched the light go out in the colonel's eyes, he felt like the world had abandoned him. It was only the white hot pain of Monro's Templar ring that had nearly melted in the fire searing a permanent scar into his palm that reminded Shay that he was, in fact, still alive. It felt like someone had ripped his heart out of his chest and stomped on it.

...Maybe they had. He was on board the Morrigan again, this time aware that he was clinging to life by a thread. A tiny, frail, doomed thread about to snap. The scent of blood was heavy in the air, and his breathing was ragged. Each breath was a colossal effort, and he would be content not to take another single one if it weren't for Liam telling to just breathe, damn you!

"Shay, you've got to breathe." Liam whispered in his ear, and carded his fingers through his hair. He wasn't sure about this. It wasn't right. At least the pain was gone. And Church. He really didn't like Church. Still, why had he thought it would feel good to -

"Breathe! Relax, trust me. You do trust me, don't you?" Trust him, he could do that. Liam was the only person he did trust. He sighed and let his head fall back against the pillows as Liam pressed a second finger inside of him. It didn't feel so strange anymore, in fact it -

"Jesus Christ, Liam!" Shay gasped, and bucked his hips. Liam chuckled under his breath and shoved him back down against the bed. He was a mewling mess of need, begging for Liam to take him – not that really knew what it was he was begging for. But for fuck's sake he needed it, and even though it hurt like hell as Liam slid into him for the first time (gently, of course), everything about that moment was perfect. ...But it wasn't. It shouldn't be Liam placing gentle kisses on his forehead as he began to move. It should be Haytham. This... This was broken a long time ago, and nothing could possibly repair it. Nothing.

"Hang in there, Shay. It's not hopeless." Liam murmured, smoothing his hair back from his face. "Nothin' is ever hopeless as long you keep fightin'."

"He's a fighter, I'll give him that. I think this would have killed any other man, honestly. Well, it might still kill him if it gets infected. We'll have to be very careful." Church's voice again. He was breathing a little easier now, and felt the familiar warmth of Liam's touch as he ran his fingers through Shay's hair. He opened his eyes, but closed them as the room seemed to be spinning.

"L-Liam?" He mumbled.

"Shh. Don't talk. How the shite are you even conscious?" Liam asked shaking his head.

"Where...?"

"The Morrigan. You're safe, it's goin' to be fine." Liam told him.

"...Haytham?" Shay grunted, and coughed with the effort it took to breathe. Liam heaved a sigh and grumbled under his breath.

"Mills? Would you? It's probably safe to let him in now." Shay heard Liam say. He fought to remain conscious, to stay in this moment rather be swept away again. "You're one tough son o' a bitch, Shay." Liam added, and Shay clung to his words like an anchor as the blackness threatened to swallow him whole. He didn't dare open his eyes, but he could hear Haytham approach. He knew the sound of his footsteps, the way he favored his right side and walked with a slight limp due to the old injury. The limp seemed more pronounced now, though. Had he been hurt again?

"Shay? Can you hear me?" He forced himself to open his eyes, and tried to say 'yes' but only managed a sort of pained grunt. His strength was fading fast and just staying awake was suddenly the hardest fought battle of his life. "Whatever happens, Shay. I'll be here with you. I... I love you. Just remember that." Just before he blacked out, he felt Haytham place a soft kiss on the scar above his eyebrow. He was safe, Haytham would protect him. He just had to keep fighting. But for now, he would sleep. ...At least until Church stabbed him mercilessly with another surgical tool.

Dasher – an obnoxious whore