Ratonhnhaké:ton wakes up in a cave, and the first thing he knows is that he should be dead. The injuries Washington had given him after… after killing his mother… those injuries should be too much for him to have survived. He had been shot. He had been bayonetted. He should not be alive.

"It's not the first time you've survived wounds like that, though," a voice says, and Ratonhnhaké:ton tries to lift himself up to see the speaker. Before he can, however, a hand reaches for his chest and pushes him down. Ratonhnhaké:ton lets it happen, staring at that hand as if it is something impossible. And… and it is. Translucent, almost invisible, wearing the same type of blades Ratonhnhaké:ton's mother had passed onto him from his father.

"I don't remember," he says, instead of asking about the arm and why it is invisible. "I…" he feels his face wrinkle up in confusion. "I should remember. There was more. In my head. It's gone now."

"I was in your head," the ghost tells him, and he moves so that Ratonhnhaké:ton can see him better. Apart from the unfamiliar clothes (white, and made in the style of the Europeans rather than Ratonhnhaké:ton's own people) he could actually be Ratonhnhaké:ton. They are identical, and somehow that terrifies Ratonhnhaké:ton more than the injuries he shouldn't have survived.

"You are- you're me?"

"Connor," says the other Ratonhnhaké:ton. Connor, apparently. "I'm who you could have been if things had been different."

"How different?"

"I saw mother die when I was four," Connor says softly. "And everything in me that matters grew out of that. And Washington- he was no king. He was not a nice man, but he was also not a madman. Everything was different."

"So if mother died," Ratonhnhaké:ton says slowly. "Is that why you have another name? Did you go to live with my- your- did you live with father?"

Connor shakes his head, turning away from Ratonhnhaké:ton. "No."

Obviously not a subject Connor wants to discuss, then, and there are more important questions to ask. "Earlier," he says. "You told me you were in my head."

"I was," Connor says slowly. "It's hard to remember, but I…" he presses a hand to his head, obviously thinking hard. "Something happened. And I went from my world to yours, and until Washington almost killed you, I was-"

"We were the same person," Ratonhnhaké:ton finishes. "That's why I knew things I shouldn't have, about father, and about Washington. But now that you're gone, I don't know them anymore." For a long moment, he and Connor look at one another in understanding. They may have had vastly different lives, but they had briefly been the same person, and they were both now in the same horrible situation. "And now you are my own personal ghost," Ratonhnhaké:ton finishes. "Either I have lost my mind, or you have been sent here for a reason."

"But for what reason?" Connor asks.

"Well-" the words are made of rock hard certainty when they fall from his mouth. "If I have anything to say about it, that reason must be to kill King Washington."

Connor looks at him, and nods.

And then a moment later, when the clan mother comes by to scold Ratonhnhaké:ton for trying to move, Connor steps back into the shadows. Unseen and unobserved, invisible to everyone but Ratonhnhaké:ton, he watches.

And he keeps watching, for the many long weeks it takes Ratonhnhaké:ton to recover. Connor seems to be good at that, more so than Ratonhnhaké:ton in any case. He is more patient as well, less inclined to follow his impulses and his anger. When Ratonhnhaké:ton asks why, he almost smiles.

"I have done things and hurt people through my rash actions in the past," he explains. "Friends. Our father. I think that I have learned, at last, to think before I act."

"I have not," Ratonhnhaké:ton says.

"I understand," Connor says, and Ratonhnhaké:ton believes him. "Right now, I know that you think of mother when you wake in the morning, and when you sleep at night. I know that the only reason you can force yourself to do anything at all is that you want the man that killed her to die. I used to feel the same."

"Used to?"

"It turns out that even killing the man I held responsible could not bring her back," Connor says.

"I still intend to kill Washington though," Ratonhnhaké:ton says.

"He's an evil man in this world," Connor says bluntly. "Your motivations may be personal, but Washington has to be stopped." He hesitates, then adds: "I just don't want to see you lose yourself in the process."

"I won't," Ratonhnhaké:ton assures him. "If nothing else, I have you to stop me when I try to go too far."

"Yes," Connor sighs. "Because a fight between the two of us can only end well."

Ratonhnhaké:ton smiles and says, "I would win."

But Connor only laughs and shakes his head. "Let's hope we never have to find out," he says.

Eventually, Ratonhnhaké:ton is well enough to leave the cave. The clan mother sends him out to the great willow in search of the tea his mother had forbidden him to drink, and Connor of course comes with him as an invisible companion. The fresh air, even if it is winter and bitterly cold, cheers them both up, and they don't exactly take the most direct route to the tree.

Ratonhnhaké:ton is still recovering from injuries that Connor doesn't have to deal with, so he often lags behind as they travel. But Connor is not quite as comfortable in the forest as Ratonhnhaké:ton. Still better than most, but Ratonhnhaké:ton is not surprised to learn that Connor has spent more of his time in European settlements and cities than Ratonhnhaké:ton has.

"There are good parts of the cities," Connor says, when Ratonhnhaké:ton gives him a disbelieving look. "Good people."

But Ratonhnhaké:ton is just satisfied to learn he is the better hunter out of the two of them. It is odd, maybe, to feel so competitive with himself, but Ratonhnhaké:ton doesn't want to be better, he just… doesn't want to learn he is the weaker version of himself. He needs to kill Washington, and that cannot happen unless he is strong.

Maybe the tea will help.

"I'm surprised you have nothing to say about the tea," Ratonhnhaké:ton says after a few hours' worth of travel. "I thought you were supposed to be my conscience."

"Not your conscience, just less impulsive," Connor corrects. "And while mother did tell us not to drink the tea, I'm having a hard time imagining a consequence worse than continuing to live in the world like this. I think it's worth the risk."

Ratonhnhaké:ton nods, reassured by Connor's support.

They press on toward the willow.

-/-

Desmond is surprised when the animus shuts off, and sits up slowly, shaking his head like he's trying to dislodge the pieces of Ratonhnhaké:ton that are still stuck in his mind. "Ugh," he says, making a face. "That still feels weird." Then he looks around, and sees the other two packing up for the night. "Why did we stop?"

"Did you want to keep going?" Lucy demands, stopping her work to look back at him in surprise.

"No! No, obviously not. That animus thing is weird. It just sounded like you were in a hurry, and now all of a sudden we're stopping?"

"For now, yes," Vidic says calmly. "We've already gathered some good information, and-" he adds this next part reluctantly. "As Lucy keeps pointing out, your synch rate will drop if you're pushed too far."

"Get some sleep," Lucy says gently. "There's a bed through that door. We'll be back in the morning."

"But I can't leave, right?" Desmond asks.

"No," Vidic snaps. Desmond growls at him, because he can, because these people already know who and what he is, and there's no use hiding. Vidic looks singularly unimpressed, but Lucy jumps a little and shoots him a startled expression. Desmond immediately stops growling, slightly ashamed of his reaction. Lucy has been kind to him, or at least as kind as she can be under the circumstances.

"Sorry," he mumbles, and sits on the animus, kicking his feet and straining his ears until he finally hears the faintest sound of the door opening and then closing. Vidic's scent fades, but Lucy's- to Desmond's surprise- stays sharp and present.

He looks up at last as she sits next to him. "What's it like?" she asks.

"The animus?" He shrugs. "Fine. I'm just glad I don't have to go through Connor's memories on top of Ratonhnhaké:ton's." Lucy nods, and they share a look of perfect confusion. None of them had expected Connor to show up in Ratonhnhaké:ton's memories, and until Desmond heard Vidic start shouting at Lucy to figure out what was going on, he'd almost thought it was all his imagination.

And then the moment passes, and Lucy sighs and shakes her head. "No. I've talked to other subjects, I think I know about as much about the animus as I can without going in myself. I meant what is it like to have… to not be…"

"Oh," Desmond says. "You mean what is it like when you're not human?"

"I don't know how to say it politely," she says. "Inhuman seems so insensitive. I mean, it's not like you don't think or feel. You're not someone's pet, you're not a wild animal. But there's a difference."

"It's okay," Desmond says softly. "You can say inhuman. I know it's true."

"But it's not bad."

"You wouldn't say that," Desmond told her softly. "If you'd grown up like I did. My dad and my grandpa were the only people I ever met that were like me. Everyone else, when they looked at me… all I ever saw was disgust. Pity. Some people were afraid of me, which is… a weird thing to see when you're six years old."

"Then they're wrong," Lucy says. "To think that way, I mean."

"It doesn't help me any. That's part of the reason I ran away. I wanted to go somewhere that nobody knew me. So I could hide what I was and start over."

"Wasn't that dangerous, though?" Lucy asks tentatively. "If you'd been caught-"

"I would have been caged," Desmond finishes for her. "Or drafted into the king's guards. Washington doesn't like to have people running around with the effects of the tea in their blood, unless they're under his control." He looks at her, and wishes he could see her with his ancestor's eyes, in bright, full color. Even under the circumstances, he thinks she would be beautiful. "Do you think the king acts like that because of Ratonhnhaké:ton? Do you really think he was a threat to Washington?"

"That's why you're here," Lucy tells him. "We think he drank the tea, and we think he almost killed the king. We just have no idea how."

"Still." And for the first time in his life, Desmond feels something like pride stir in his stomach. Someone like him, not even human, an outsider in every sense of the word, had taken on the king, and had almost won.

"Hey," Lucy says, nudging him. "Look at that."

"What?"

"You do know how to smile."

-/-

"Alright," Connor admits grudgingly when they reach the roots of the great willow. "I'm starting to have second thoughts."

"Now?" Ratonhnhaké:ton demands, and Connor is briefly amused at the exasperation his double's voice. But this situation does not lend itself well to humor, and he quickly grows serious again as Ratonhnhaké:ton continues. "We came all this way."

"I do not like the way this place looks," Connor says. He tilts his head back, straining to see the top of the willow. It's just out of sight, above the range of his vision. "This tree does not even exist in my world."

"Neither do I," Ratonhnhaké:ton says, which is an interesting claim. Technically, they are the same person, so Ratonhnhaké:ton does exist in Connor's world, he just exists as Connor. But they have been shaped since the age of four by completely different lives. Ratonhnhaké:ton doesn't even know what the assassins are, and Connor finds himself strangely reluctant to inform him. Instead, Ratonhnhaké:ton grew up in his village, with his mother and actual friends. If they are that different, is it really accurate to say they are the same person?

He lets the moment pass, though, but files the thought away for later. "Are you really sure you want this?" he asks Ratonhnhaké:ton. "Mother said it was dangerous."

"Mother was not infallible," Ratonhnhaké:ton says, and Connor flushes a little. She had always seemed perfect to him, when he knew her as a child. He had idolized the memory of her growing up, and wonders what he might have thought of her if he'd been able to grow up at home. Another thought for later, when things calm down a little. If they ever do.

"It's your choice," Connor says at last.

"Then I want to try," Ratonhnhaké:ton says. "I'll go up and cut the branches I need. Then I'll bring it back down and make it here, so you can watch in case anything goes wrong."

Connor gives him his best unimpressed look. Ratonhnhaké:ton returns one that is exactly the same. "Fine," he says. "I will wait."

And while he waits, he worries. This tea had seemed like a marginally good idea when they'd agreed to try, back at the cave. It no longer does. At all. There is something about this place that makes the hair on the back of Connor's neck stand up like soldiers marching in line, and it seems like an actual age before Ratonhnhaké:ton returns to the ground. He comes slowly, climbing down the side of the tree despite a thick pile of leaves not ten yards away. Connor wonders why for a moment, then remembers Ratonhnhaké:ton is not an assassin, and apparently has never learned to make a leap of faith.

Everything is different here. Connor looks at Ratonhnhaké:ton's face and cannot even recognize himself.

"I got it," Ratonhnhaké:ton says at last.

"And you're still sure?"

"More than before," Ratonhnhaké:ton says, and for a moment Connor envies him that conviction. He has not been that certain about anything since before he killed his father. After that, there is… nothing. Stumbling in darkness, uncertain about the decisions he's made, and even less certain about the future ahead of him.

Ratonhnhaké:ton is certain, as certain as Connor was, once upon a time when things still made sense.

He sits on the ground and watches while Ratonhnhaké:ton brews the tea. When it's done, they look at each other and Connor nods. "If you're going to do it, then do it," he says. "Don't hesitate."

Ratonhnhaké:ton doesn't. His body shudders for a moment as he drinks, and then all at once he spasms and collapses onto the ground. Connor half rises, crouching over his double, inexplicably worried.

On some level he is worried because he and Ratonhnhaké:ton are almost the same person. Connor is not sure what happens to him if Ratonhnhaké:ton dies from this tea. But he is also worried because…

Because for all their differences, they share a mother. And a father. Connor has lost or destroyed every piece of family that he has ever known but here, now, in the strangest way possible, the universe has granted him another chance. A brother.

He will not let this last piece of his family go.

-/-

Desmond gets as far as the memory of Ratonhnhaké:ton drinking the tea before the animus kicks him to the loading screen. It's not the first time this has happened, and after a few moments of nothing, Desmond sighs and sits down to wait. The animus is even slower than his ancient laptop, and he could be here for a while.

After a minute or so of continued nothing, Desmond feels something wet push against his forearm. Had he not already been sitting, he would have jumped; as it is, he turns around and-

"Oh!" Because there is a wolf at his back, a wolf that smells like nothing and is actually see through. But still Desmond smiles. He has always gotten along better with wolves than humans. Wolves apparently see him as half like us instead of half different, the way humans do. Desmond gives the wolf an enthusiastic hug, glad that he can at least feel it. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?"

And Desmond freezes, because it is not the wolf that speaks (of course it isn't, wolves can't talk). And then he looks up. "Ratonhnhaké:ton," he says. "So this is- this must be where your mind goes when you drink the tea."

"How do you know me?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asks, and Desmond practically falls over himself to explain everything. He doesn't know how this is possible but he likes Ratonhnhaké:ton already from his time in his ancestor's memories. He wants Ratonhnhaké:ton to like him too. At the end, Ratonhnhaké:ton rubs at his face and sighs. "First Connor," he says. "Now you."

"And this guy," Desmond says, gesturing to the wolf. "I could be wrong, but I think this is the spirit animal you came here to meet."

Ratonhnhaké:ton nods and crouches down in front of the invisible wolf. The wolf wags its tail, and Ratonhnhaké:ton slowly stretches a hand out-

The wolf tenses up and leaps at- into Ratonhnhaké:ton. Desmond gasps and stumbles backward, watching as Ratonhnhaké:ton begins to glow, lines burning themselves onto his face. He grunts in pain and falls forward to rest on all fours. And then the glow fades, and Desmond smiles. Ratonhnhaké:ton barely looks different, apart from the new markings. His body is unchanged, but there is a strong thread of wolf in his scent that Desmond very much likes.

Ratonhnhaké:ton looks like the addicts Desmond used to see in New York, heady and high with something powerful running through his veins. He actually smiles. "This is amazing," he says.

"You like it?"

"Yes." Ratonhnhaké:ton looks at him, eyes wide, so that for a moment Desmond can't help thinking of him as an overexcited puppy. "This is how you feel all the time?"

Desmond snorts. "I don't know what you're feeling right now," he says. "But you look way more excited than I usually am."

"But this is… it's great!"

"Maybe for you," Desmond grumbles. "The tea gives power to the person that drinks it. It gives weird ears to their descendants."

Ratonhnhaké:ton looks like he doesn't quite know what to say to that.

"Come on," Desmond says, taking pity on him and dropping the subject. "Let me show you some things before you have to wake up, okay?" When Ratonhnhaké:ton nods, Desmond tells him to close his eyes. "I can show you how to see like a wolf," he says. "With your nose and your ears instead of your eyes."

"You don't have to do this," Ratonhnhaké:ton says quietly. "Why do you want to help me?"

"Because you're my ancestor," Desmond says. "And that means your family. Because you didn't say anything about my ears, like most people do. And-" he stops himself at the last second from comparing Ratonhnhaké:ton to a puppy. He probably wouldn't take it well. Instead, Desmond finds himself scrambling for something to say, and is surprised at what comes out of his mouth. "And you understand," he says. "No one else understands what it feels like."

-/-

I started writing this and I was like aw, I really like the idea of Connor and Ratonhnhaké:ton working together (particularly because this way we get both an inside view of the tea, from Ratonhnhaké:ton, and an outside view, from Connor. Which isn't that important now, but it will be as Ratonhnhaké:ton starts drinking more of the tea and getting less and less human). And then Desmond just kind of showed up because I can'g help myself.