A/N: With a short-circuiting computer comes a weird idea. I spent half of yesterday typing this on my mother's tablet, and I only got it here in the PC as soon as my brother had it fixed. Forgive me for this; I know some parts in this were confusing and may have double-meanings (I'm not too sure myself), but it was quite rushed. (I know, stupid excuse.) I tried to stick to canon as much as I can, but I have not finished AC4 and I knew what I do from the ending thanks to Tumblr spoilers. I'm kind of confused too, but hey. I hope you like this. C: Reviews would be great!

..

It had only been moments since Mary had died.

Edward was lucky enough to have been able to retrieve her body, still warm and peaceful, as if she only slumbers and will wake from a nightmare moments later, but he is wise enough to know that there is no kiss or magic that will wake her now. Even though her final words were for him, he still found it difficult to comprehend what had occurred, his mind a tangled mess of regrets and lack of comprehensive grasp of his emotions, keeping his pace as he ran further to anywhere farther from the port. Anywhere peaceful enough for him to regain his composure.

After making sure that no Spanish man will even dare look his way, he calms down slightly, his attention returning to the sleeping beauty in his arms. Edward had poured all his efforts to save both Anne and Mary, but Anne had been assisted by Adewale and was quick on sneaking out, while he had the misfortune of having to shake off some guards. When he had returned to Mary, the pain from the childbirth had riddled her unable to move well and Edward had no inkling how to reduce the complications, if there was even a way. He wished there was a way, and he wish that he would have done something, anything, to relive Mary of her pain, or else he would not be here trying to feel whatever warmth is left from her cold hands.

Another one of his regrets that he cannot amend. Another mistake he cannot correct.

He had grown fond of her over the years of his pirating, her presence always a welcome reason to smile, even before he knew of his secret. Sure, Mary had a habit of dragging him along to trouble, but he himself smiles upon a storm's wake; and they were all for good causes, according to her, at least. Causes that required her to wear clothes of a man, and made her throw out everything that she was originally. How ironic; back then, she was telling him to stop donning the Assassin robes, because it was not who he was!

Then Edward realized, it was James Kidd. That fictional bastard son of the late William Kidd remains to be a person whom Mary wanted to be, but never will, because Fate decided she is to have bosoms and a womb instead of muscles and a dick. James Kidd was a person who Edward hated, because of the things he has done and the age when he had done it. James Kidd is the non-existent man whom Edward knew most of his life, yet he never met personally, yet he still admired for some time when his arrogance is not in play. James Kidd remains a stranger until now.

But Mary, yes, he knew for a long time. He never knew her name - he only knew her playacting as someone else, yet he could have seen the real her underneath the padded shirts and corsets - as foul as it may sound. She heard her laughter for the first time, in the middle of a Templar base, laughing as she strikes another enemy soldier to the neck, enjoying the sight of the carnage she is making. Yet even so, it felt like his hands may have reached her, touched her, and she may have broken out of her shell as well, for she softened and smiled like the woman she was when she was not as the pirate band's young Jim.

He had to admit, he adored her. He loved her. Yet he only knew too late, and he did not know if she felt the same, holding her now-cold hands upon his own, wishing for a miracle to pass. Here now lays his love, his life, passed away in his arms. And there Edward was, unsure what to do.

He was afraid to leave her be; not only would that be heavy upon his guilt, he was certain he'd earn the ire of her Assassin comrades once more. Like he'd do that! The Jackdaw is still far off the docks and Edward is certain he can bring her body along to Tulum. He wanted her body buried well and safe, and to be respected, even at death; even Mary herself was not able to. Heck, she never treated it as a woman should, restricting her movements and binding her chest and hair, unlike a man should.

He wanted to treat her like his wife, even though for the last time. Even though it was just to return her to her home and make sure she is all well before her beautiful form rots away, before her skin becomes one with the tree barks and soil. By that, an idea suddenly hit him - and he was certain that it will be the best he can give. Burying her seems to be disrespectful for her Assassin friends at the moment, and so he did not wait to be certain that the Spanish are off his tail for good as he carried her and ran swiftly to the Jackdaw despite the injuries he had obtained.

Onboard, Adewale had already returned with a tired Anne Bonny at his side, trying her best to stay awake after the entire ordeal, but upon sight of Edward with a passed Mary in his hands, they both stood up in attention. Edward merely asked a crewman to get him a barrel huge enough for Mary to fit and have it filled with parts rum and saltwater to preserve her body.

"What's preserving her for?" Adewale asked after much thought.

"Lasses always want to look pretty when coming home, don't they?" Even Anne did not understand, but no more further questions were asked as Edward has set the fastest course for Tulum in one or two days' time at most. He was not certain if the rum-saltwater solution would hold the decay for long, for starters, and he would love to make peace with it as quick as the winds would allow.

The trip was only a day and a half, but to Adewale and Anne, it felt like forever. Edward left the captaining of the ship to Adewale; and even if he have not, the dark man will still take over the helm seeing as to how Edward refuses to leave his cabin. Surprisingly, Edward was not drunk in his cabin, but he is just tending to Mary's already lifeless body, pouring and washing the solution over her head, bathing her as if she was still alive. Adewale was just happy that he is not piss drunk, but the situation worried him slightly. There was something wrong, something different, and something that scared Adewale with Edward's behavior ever since Mary had passed, yet...

Upon reaching Tulum, Ah Tabai approached the ship as it docked, partly expecting trouble upon Edward's arrival, but when he saw Mary's lifeless form upon his arms, with nothing but her white shirt and her trousers and boots on her and still partly damp in the solution he had concocted, he merely stepped aside to make way, understanding the situation. After a few moments of pacing around, finding a good spot for her, he found a clearing not too far off that seemed perfect for her. If Mary were to choose, she would rest against the rocks underneath the blossom trees, just watching as the current from the river carries leaves on its way. She would laugh out loud and call Edward out on his shit. Like good old days.

Edward took a moment before he laid down Mary, propping her up against a rock overviewing the river, and placing her hands over her lap. She still smells of the solution, making Edward feel like it was Mary's perfume: the seas and the best liquor out in the West Indies.

He would have left her like that, but a few more things are still missing... Catching sight of a carpet of fallen blossoms upon their feet, Edward fills his arms with them and goes to Mary's side and one by one, he decorates her hair with the red and peach-colored blossoms, forming a flower crown. In usual days, a piece of cloth would be wrapped around her head to keep her hair up, but as Mary, she never wore anything in her hair except for the few beads, thinking that frivolities on her hair seemed silly. It was... never too late for one, Edward thought as he inserted the last one between the strands of her hair, like sewing up cloth.

He steps back and later admires his handiwork, thinking to himself that it was the best he can do. But remembering the purpose, he breaks and cries silently before pressing his last kiss upon Mary's forehead He later on picks up a blossom with a stem long enough, and positions Mary's hand over his, bestowing his last gift with tears still welled up in his eyes.

A gift with beauty and maybe a few drops of tears will do.

After Edward had left Tulum – with nothing to say or talk about, it took Ah Tabai a few hours before he had the courage to look around the island to find where he had buried Mary. He feared that Edward might have not marked her resting place, and his pace quickened and his eyes darted around the clearings he can sight upon, finding loosely-dug soil.

After some time, he decides to rest, concluding that Edward had left Mary's grave with no marker. But upon finding some rocks to rest on, he chanced upon someone underneath the blossom trees and he was about to tap the sleeping person on the shoulder when he paused, realizing who it was.

It was Mary.

Ah Tabai paused for a while, perplexed on Edward's decision not to bury her. Perhaps he has no will to do so? Or he thought he would leave it to them instead, seeing that she has been with the Assassins for most of her life? He peered closer, stepping around to see her face, decorated in flowers and blossoms. The disturbed carpet of blossoms told him that Edward had only taken the flowers from what was around, so he was glad about that, at least.

For a moment, he looked upon her face, and it felt like she was merely sleeping.

He looked around further for anything that the pirate captain may have left behind, and found a note that was loosely stuck between Mary's fingers. Ah Tabai took it carefully and peered over the scrawny yet formal handwriting, obviously from a rough-travelled sailor like Edward:

"May you rest well, and be safe, as much as Fate allows."

He was about to return the note where he found it when his gaze falls on the sewn thread of flowers around Mary's ring finger.

..

When Haytham Kenway had returned back to their old home to retrieve his father's old possessions, he chanced upon a leather-bound journal, with yellowed pages and a broken strap. He hesitated little as he opened it, but in his haste, something had fallen off the journal as well as with a few pages that were worn down with age. Haytham grumbled as he bent down to pick them up, reading parts of the fallen pages. There were some of his travels in Tulum and in Port Royal, which was not surprising, considering his origins. But a phrase in one of the pages caught his attention, and Haytham peered closer to read it more clearly.

I had always wished there was a way to save her. I wish I knew that by that time, or else I would not be holding on to whatever warmth I could feel from her fingers.

A sketch of a clearing with blossom trees and a carpet of grass follow. A woman was underneath one of the blossom trees, sleeping peacefully with a crown of flowers on her head and her hands over her worn-out coat on her lap.

Here lays my love, my life.

Haytham knew that Edward's first wife had died before he himself was born, and so he assumed it was an entry about Caroline's death. But that was not he was searching for, and went back to picking up all the pages. Still, there was something unsettling about the entries... After finding all of them, he finally found the object that had fallen off the journal earlier. It was withered and old, yet preserved well from its years between Edward's journal pages.

It was a pressed ring of flowers.