A/N: This story (and all of mine) are more frequently updated on my ao3 account-ffnet's doc manager drives me up the wall, honestly. Also, I am so sorry to all the lovely reviewers who probably think I've been ignoring them! I don't actually get notified in any way when I get a review. Gotta figure out a way to change that...

Desmond waited until the hallway was clear, then whispered to Jimmy. "First lesson? Blend in with the crowd." He opened several doors until he found a closet full of white and gray robes. "Here y'go. I saw some kids about your size wearing these..." he handed him a gray robe. "Put that on over your clothes."

Jimmy looked at him, mouth agape, as Desmond pulled off Connor's coat, chucked it into the guest room, and replaced it with the plainer robes. "All right, now, you have to walk like you belong here."

"How's that?"

"You're important and a little bit arrogant. You're respectful of your elders but don't cringe. You're being trained to carry on a noble tradition. And you have every right to be where you're going. You don't need to hide."

The boy nodded slowly. "Won't they know I don't belong here when they see my face?"

Desmond pulled the gray hood so it covered more of the boy's face. "If they see your face. Now follow me, I'm your teacher and this is a special lesson. We're actually going to see one of our worst enemies, and you're curious. All your life everybody's told you that these guys want to kill you and jump rope with your intestines." Jimmy made a face. "Seriously, these are like the worst guys you can imagine."

"I can imagine pretty bad."

"These guys, they want to kill you just for being you. Okay? Keep that in mind, you're being a curious kid going to see an actual boogeyman."

Jimmy nodded and bit his lip. "All right, let's go."

There weren't too many assassins milling about, which was both good and bad. Less chance of detection, but also less chance of hiding.

Jimmy followed Desmond loyally, carefully mimicking his movements, and casting occasional glances to see if he'd lost his mind in the past few minutes. Actually, he hadn't had any particularly bad Bleeding Effect episodes since they'd come to the island-Inagua, they called it. Desmond figured that since he'd experienced no memories of Haytham's father, Edward, he wasn't getting the weird dislocation of being in the same place as two different people that had been plaguing him ever since he had appeared on the Aquila.

But shouldn't he be picking up on Connor's memories? Wasn't this a significant memory for him? After all, it was unusual for Connor to be defending his father to other Assassins. And family was extremely important to him, even his father's side of the family. Wouldn't he have remembered going to his grandfather's island, finding mementos, meeting the annoying son of his grandfather's pirate ex-girlfriend?

Did that mean Desmond was actually changing the past by being in it? Was he going to be credited with the invention of the mojito? Could he convince his ancestors to get along? Or should be try to do as little as possible in the hopes of not screwing up the future? What if Connor was meant to have children with Dobby, and because of Desmond's intervention, got together with the woman from last night instead? Would Desmond still exist? Would be come back to a body that looked different? Would his father have a less crappy personality?

Desmond realized that Jimmy had yanked him into the parlor-he supposed that's what it was-and was trying to fan his face. "Desmond! Wake up, Desmond!"

"I'm awake, Jimmy, I'm okay."

The boy looked up at him dubiously. "What does okay mean?"

"It means I'm fine, I'm all right."

"You speak funny, Mister Desmond."

"No, I don't. You speak funnier, Mister Jimmy."

The boy giggled. "I'm too young to be called Mister anything," he reproached. "How come you don't speak like Mister Haytham or Captain Connor? They're your family."

"Well, I didn't learn to talk from them. Just like they don't sound the same because Connor was raised by his mother's people."

Jimmy digested this. "You still talk very oddly."

"How should I talk?"

"Like Mister Haytham."

"Why not like Connor?"

"Because he's younger than you. Also you call Mister Haytham 'Pops' so he probably raised you for part of your life, so you should talk like him."

Desmond reached under the gray hood to-

-Kadar had just become a novice, and Altair realized it was going to be much more difficult to ruffle the younger boy's hair to tease him-

-freeze with his hand creepily on Jimmy's hair.

"Wake up, Desmond!"

His hand was shaking as Altair's grief and guilt overwhelmed him. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak, he couldn't lower his hand, but he also couldn't raise it to touch the gray ghost before him.

"Psst! Desmond! Psst!"

"Hey, J-you're not my son." It was the woman from last night, and she looked aggrieved. "Have you seen my son around? Little taller than you, surly expression, black hair...?"

Jimmy shook his head. "No, ma'am."

"Oh, don't call me ma'am. My name is Mary, Mary Burleigh."

Desmond was finally able to drop his hand. "So that Ted fellow..."

"Is my stupid big brother, yes. Your uncle was right, by the way. Mother did name her children after her lovers and husbands. Except for my littlest sister Jenny. I suppose if Haytham is your uncle, then his sister Jennifer must be your mother...?"

Desmond was starting to feel really guilty about the fake backstory he and Haytham had concocted. "Yeah... But, um, she doesn't like to think about me..."

Mary looked at him with the deepest sympathy, and Desmond felt about half an inch tall. "I know all about what happened to her. I'm sure she feels just miserable when she looks at you. It's not fair, you know. Your uncle has a bastard son and nobody looks down on him for it, but your mother didn't even have a choice in the matter and would get heaped with shame if she was open about it."

"Hey, he didn't go knocking up Ziio on purpose, he didn't even know she got pregnant until Connor was seventeen. And, and about my, uh, mom. Yeah. About her. Where were the damn Assassins when she got kidnapped? How come she had to wait until her little brother grew up and could use his Templar skills to rescue her? How come the Assassins didn't go, 'hey, we haven't heard anything from our fellow Assassin Eddie Kenway in a while. Maybe he got killed and his daughter got kidnapped and his son's in the hands of the Templars! We gotta do something'? Why were they all, too bad so sad, and then they get upset about Haytham the Grand Master Templar? It's like his buddies, they're all, hey let's beat up this native kid, and then they wonder why he wants to kill them all. Duhhhh, you can't treat a kid like shit and then wonder why he grows up to cause problems for you."

Jimmy was gaping at Desmond in awe. Mary smiled and pulled up her hood. "Exactly what I said to my brother, but I don't think he listened. Your uncle is a valuable asset, a Templar with Assassin connections and Assassin sympathies. Any sensible Assassin-like your cousin-should try to cultivate these sympathies, and try to prevent the title of Grand Master from falling to some Templar we have no ties to."

Desmond nodded. "Keep your enemies close, exactly. So I'm going to-ah-"

"Break him out? Good, I'll help."

"Really? Why?"

"The reasons I just said. And... my family owes yours a big favor. The biggest favor, actually."

"How so?"

She looked at him. "You weren't told? Look... my mother used to go by the name Anne Bonny."

"Anne Bonny the famous pirate?! Like in that old book?! She's your mom?!"

"The very same. I think she's the only one in the book who's still alive, actually. She was saved from hanging by my brother that died-they couldn't hang a pregnant woman, you know. But they threw her, and Mary Read-"

"THE Mary Read? Wait... you're... you're named after her! She's one of the ones your mom-wait, she was an Assassin?"

Mary laughed. "Yes, although the one or two other people who have figured it out were more disgusted by my mother's love life than astounded that she was an Assassin."

Desmond waved his hand dismissively. "Where I come from, women walk hand in hand and send out wedding invitations, but nobody believes in Assassins."

She shook her head in amazement. "Well, as I say, they threw them into jail. They executed all the men, including Mother's husband Jack. And at the trial, your grandfather showed up and was captured. And they decided to torture him but keep him alive. Mother wouldn't say what they did to him, but she says he looked terrible."

Desmond blanched. He didn't know anything about the mysterious Edward Kenway, but he seemed to have some pretty vicious enemies.

Mary continued, "The Assassins sent a team to rescue them-your grandfather wasn't one yet, but they didn't want Mary and my mother to stay in prison, of course, and be brought to trial again. So they rescued your grandfather, and he was in no shape to fight, so while the Assassins were fighting the guards, he helped Mary out. And-and she died of childbed fever, but my mother made it out because of him and the Assassins, although my brother was born too early and didn't breathe." She drew a deep, shuddering breath. "So you see, I wouldn't exist, nor most of my brothers and sisters, if it weren't for Edward Kenway. And I thought about it. And I don't think he'd want his own son dying in a jail cell in his own basement. Templar or no. And I don't think Mother would be very happy with Teddy if she found out about it."

Desmond opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to figure out what to say. Jimmy butted in, "Mister Haytham helped save me. From bad stuff."

Mary nodded gravely. "Teddy was reading the information we have on Haytham this morning, but I don't think he got past the word Templar to read about how apparently saving people from horrible fates runs in the family." She waved a stack of paper. "1735, saves his mother from death or worse when their home was attacked. Tries to help his father fight off the invaders, but gets injured. 1754, saves a whole bunch of Natives from one Edward Braddock, Templar. Later works with one of them to eliminate Braddock."

"Yeah, that's Kanieh'ti:io that he worked with. Ziio. Connor's mom. But he didn't coerce her or anything, she kissed him first when he was being all gentlemanly."

Mary paused to scribble notes. "1758, rescues his sister Jennifer from slavery. Also rescues his friend, James Holden, after Holden is captured and maimed in the course of rescuing Jenny. Then kills Grandmaster Reginald Birch, who had masterminded the 1735 attack on the Kenway family-"

"Jenny killed him. I mean. My mom. She killed Birch. Not that Haytham wasn't trying, it's just how the fight went. Both of them will tell you that. Birch was an evil douchebag. He did worse than you could possibly have written down."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because there weren't witnesses and the victim doesn't talk about it. Or think about it."

She pursed her lips. "How do you know, then?"

"An unlucky guess in a shitty circumstance."

Jimmy laced his fingers through Desmond's, and clung to him, looking up at Mary with big eyes.

Mary bit her lip. "I see. Er, back to your uncle. 1776, may have done something to save his son from the gallows-weakened the knot on the noose or some such. Certainly it was a bad noose that didn't kill him right away. He was spotted sneaking around in the crowd at the execution, disguised, and vanished by the time the excitement was over. He didn't interfere with one of his close friends getting killed by Connor, either."

"And he helped me!" Jimmy insisted.

Mary asked, "What did he do?"

"Captain Connor found me, um, getting hurt by this guy... and he whistled, and Mister Haytham and Mister Desmond came over, and they pulled him away from me, and took me to the doctor, and tied that man up so he couldn't hurt anyone, and had a trial for that man and told about the way he was hurting me so I didn't have to say it. And they keep me from being lonely and scared. So you can't let your brother hurt Mister Haytham. I need him. Maybe when I'm taller and I can use a sword and a flintlock, I won't need him. But right now I do."

She crouched down to look the boy in the eyes. "All right. I won't let my brother hurt Mister Haytham. We're going to fix everything, you and me and Captain Connor and Mister Desmond."

Jimmy nodded, smiling.

Mary spotted movement out of the corner of her eye and darted out of the room, returning with a teenaged boy in gray robes, whose face seemed to have a permanent scowl. "My son, James Burleigh."

James grumbled-he looked about fifteen, and disaffected with life in general. Desmond switched to Eagle Vision and saw wisps of red around him. This was going to be awkward.

"Mom. I don't want to do whatever crazy Assassin scheme you have going on. How many times have I told you I don't want to be an Assassin?"

"I don't care if you want to be an Assassin or not, James, I need your help and this is very far from Assassin business."

The boy seemed interested-or at least marginally less disaffected, which was quite the accomplishment. "Are you leaving the Assassins?"

"Probably not, but your uncle won't be happy about us breaking a Templar out of jail."

"There's a Templar in the basement? A real live Templar?"

"Yes. And if you help me out, you can leave with him."

"What's the plan?"

Desmond was staring at Mary. She rolled her eyes. "Don't judge me. I want my boy to be happy."

"But what if he betrays you all?"

She frowned thoughtfully. "I don't believe he would. First, I think he only wants to get away from here. Becoming a Templar takes more dedication than I think he wants to summon."

"I'm right here, Mother."

"They'll kick you out if they don't like you."

"As opposed to the Assassins, who won't even let me leave. What are you smirking at?" He glared pugnaciously at Desmond.

"James Burleigh, you mind your manners."

"Or else what, you'll have Uncle Ted hit me even harder in training?" He had a faint shadow of green and yellow around one eye.

Mary frowned. "I'm sure he didn't mean to."

"I'm sure he did."

"Ah-" Desmond interrupted. "Look, I understand about wanting to get away. When I was sixteen, I ran away from the Assassins too. I hated my... my teachers, I hated everything about it. I knew my mom would be disappointed, but I had to find my own way. And I didn't join the Templars, there's lots of other things you can do with your life. I worked whatever jobs I could get, and then I ended up as a bartender, and I really liked that. I would have been so happy not to be a part of the whole thing ever again if it weren't for some asshole Templars in Italy." Damn, but it was hard to integrate his fake backstory with his real one.

"You didn't want to be like your uncle?" James queried.

"Cool and awesome like him, yes. A Templar, no."

"My uncle isn't even 'cool and awesome'."

"Ted is a good man and he saved my life when your father and all the other Colonial Assassins were killed before you were born."

Desmond's blood ran cold. He kept forgetting about the Purge. That was not something he looked forward to discussing with Haytham.

Jimmy asked, "Don't you have other uncles? I bet at least one of them is decent."

James shrugged. "I've never met them. I met my Gran once. I guess she's not too bad."

Desmond walked away from the teenagers a little, beckoning Mary over. He whispered, "If your baby daddy was killed in the Purge, why are you trying to break out the Grandmaster who led it?"

She looked at him quizzically, apparently trying to interpret the phrase 'baby daddy'. "Your uncle wasn't there when our safe house was attacked. I thought he hadn't been, but now that I've seen him, I know he wasn't. The Purge was in 1763. And at that time, he was moping around in Virginia, right?"

"I think so."

"He may have ordered it, but he may not have. His subordinates may have taken it upon themselves. They... all the reports from surviving Assassins and allies, none of them mentioned a Templar with a Hidden Blade. Or a Templar that matches his description. One or two attacks in the Virginia area, there was a man in a blue coat watching, but he didn't fight unless anyone came near."

"How do you know?"

"Witnesses. Reports. My fiance escaped several times before he was... caught. One of those times, he ran right past your uncle, who sat on his horse watching like he didn't even care."

Desmond frowned. What had happened, to turn Haytham Kenway from a young man with ample skill for his expansive ambition, into someone who would just check out from a battle like that? A wave of crushing hopelessness and despair broke over his mind, leaving behind a bleak mental landscape of disinterested doubt.

Mary cleared her throat and Jimmy yanked on Desmond's hand. "Oh... Uh, I'm not sure. But I don't think he was really emotionally invested in it. I think... I don't know. I think he was dealing with a lot? Rescuing... my mom... and me of course...although I don't remember anything... anyway, he's not a bad guy, he's a jerk and a pompous asshole sometimes but he also does good things too. Like you said."

She nodded, and suggested, "Why don't you go check on him? You must be so worried about him. I'm going to go make sure your cousin's ship gets restocked. Let's plan the jailbreak to start after dinner. Let Connor know too...come along, James."

"Can't I just go meet the Templar?"

"Later."

Desmond was practically soaked with sweat from the strain of lying and not getting overwhelmed by the Bleeding Effect. He and Jimmy made their way to the hidden staircase to the basement, and loitered in a hallway near where he could hear a familiar sarcastic voice.

In a cell roughly hewn from stone and fitted with an iron-barred door, Haytham Kenway was sitting on a wooden crate, busily working at driving Ted Burleigh mad. "I just love the architecture of my father's house. And I think I saw some lovely art that I'd love to examine more closely. If only I could walk around this house that's of great sentimental importance to my family. I hear my father stole quite a collection of art from the British and Spanish ships, who of course had stolen it originally..."

Connor was leaning against the wall, probably purposefully looking like a barely restrained threat. "Europeans tend to do that."

Haytham said lazily, "Yes, it's sadly one of our better qualities. I sure wish I could view this stunning collection, but alas, it seems that I'm in somewhat more trouble than being sent to my room without supper."

"I would guess, Father, that when you were a child and did get sent to your room, you were provided with a chamber pot?"

"Why, yes, Connor, how ever did you guess?"

Ted gritted his teeth. "I know what you're doing, and it won't work."

"He knows what we're doing, Connor."

"What are we doing, Father?"

"I think we should ask him, since he knows."

"I was attempting to secure a bucket for you. After all, even at Bridewell they supply prisoners with buckets."

Ted rolled his eyes. "Know that from personal experience, do you?"

Connor looked down his nose at Ted. "Yes."

Haytham volunteered, "As I recall, the bucket they gave you was more frightening than all the prisoners combined."

"I suppose so, as I was not afraid of any of them, but I avoided that."

Ted pointed at Connor. "You've been in jail?"

Connor opened his mouth to reply, but Haytham broke in with, "Your mom!" and smirked. In his alcove, Desmond silently applauded Haytham's increasing fluency with 21st century juvenile insults.

Ted went white, then red. "That's beside the point!"

"And so is Connor's experience."

"I was, of course, cleared of all charges," Connor said quietly. "Including those trumped up by certain Templars."

"You had your own son imprisoned on false charges?!" Ted squawked.

"I didn't put him in prison, he got himself in there."

"Chasing your counterfeiter," Connor volunteered.

Haytham waved that off irritably. "And I didn't know he was my son until I actually saw him up close. And smelled his cell." He pinched his nose theatrically. "Anyway, it all worked out for everyone except Hickey."

Connor said with just a hint of sarcasm, "And what a loss to your fine organization he must have been... Do you know what I have noticed, Father?"

"Do tell me what you've noticed, son."

"Only that, this house was owned by a member of our family, but it has not burned down."

"What an astute observation! Although, to be honest, if it started burning right now, I could probably help quite a bit." Haytham was crossing his legs like a second-grader waiting for a hall pass to the bathroom.

"Are you talking about wanting a damn bucket again?" Ted sounded really annoyed. "Use a damn corner or something."

Haytham looked shocked and horrified. "I rather think not!"

Connor added, "He may be a Templar, but he does not stoop so low as to defile even the caverns under his father's house."

"Thank you, son."

"Anytime, Father."

"It pains me to know that my countrymen have looked down on your mother's people for so long, when it's clear that your society at least teaches its children the common human decency of providing those imprisoned with basic sanitation-"

"All right, all right, go get the obnoxious Templar a damn bucket to piss in!" Ted ordered one of the other Assassin guards, the one who had been occasionally chuckling under his breath at the conversation. "This unnatural mutual admiration society you two have going is making me sick. Templars and Assassins should not get along."

Haytham coughed, but it sounded strangely like he was saying "Altair".

Desmond had been silently trying to convince Jimmy to stay concealed, and finally succeeded, and sidled out to greet his ancestors. "Whassup, yo?"

Connor stared at him blankly. Ted glowered. Haytham smirked. The amused Assassin returned with the bucket, and Ted opened the door, pushed the bucket through, and slammed the door shut, locking it quickly. Connor shouldered Ted aside to stand in front of the door, back to the bars, and nodded at Desmond to take his place beside him.

"What do you two think you're doing?"

"Um, giving the man some privacy."

Haytham called out, "You fellows argue loudly for a few minutes, please. The louder the better."

Ted sighed, frustrated. "Why can't you see this? It's so simple! He is a Templar and we're all Assassins. I should think it ought to be obvious that we should just assassinate him."

Desmond argued, "But he hasn't done anything bad in, like, years! Doesn't that almost make him innocent?"

Ted shook his head. "How do you know he's not just plotting to wait until your guard is down to do something horrible? Templars do that, you know. They act like normal people for years and then all of a sudden they kill someone they've been aiming at the whole time."

Desmond snapped, "Yeah, and Assassins never do that, obviously, because it's not like there's a verb for that exact thing that got named after the Assassins."

Ted rolled his eyes. "You know there's a difference. We only kill when necessary."

"Oh wait, I've heard this one before." Desmond reeled off a string of Arabic, and received only blank stares from all the Assassins. "Uh. I mean. 'Here we seek to promote peace, but murder is our means' and then 'We who celebrate the sanctity of life and then promptly take it from those we deem our enemies'."

Ted scowled. Connor looked mildly amused, and Haytham chuckled right behind Desmond, and clapped him on the shoulder through the bars. Desmond jumped. "Ugh, Pops! Not with the pee hands!"

"Sorry, lad, I don't really have proper facilities to wash up in here." He reached through the bars and tried to wipe his hands on Ted's robes.

"That was fairly juvenile, Father."

"You'll forgive me for being annoyed at being deprived of the capability of basic hygiene."

"Perhaps."

Desmond was shaking his head in disbelief. "Am I the only one who finds it totally ironic that in a room full of Assassins, the only ones who have any knowledge of, ya know, the stuff written by Altair himself, about the philosophy of the Assassins, are a Templar and his family? Like don't you guys study any philosophy here? Any Assassin history? What kind of Assassin training place is this anyway?"

Haytham chimed in, "I learnt a fair bit of philosophy before my tenth birthday even though I never heard the word Assassin until much later. ...I daresay my life would have been quite different if I'd had a name to match to what I was taught." He chuckled. "But I might have been the same...How does it go? 'One may be two things, opposite in every way, simultaneously'?" Desmond nodded.

"We don't have to go by every word of a man who's been dead for centuries. This isn't a religion," Ted objected. "You don't get bonus points for quoting him like he's scripture."

"Yeah, but you should at least know the ideas he talks about 'cause they're still relevant to all Assassins everywhere."

Connor spoke up, "My Mentor and I have discussed these contradictions as well...how can you justify to yourself the taking of lives if you do not understand the potential hypocrisy?"

Haytham added, "How do you decide who to kill? What if I wasn't a Templar but some ordinary man, would you have locked me up like this? How do you decide that I deserve to die?"

"How many Assassins have you killed?"

"In the past decade? None. I'm sure you understand that a man may change and improve and become a better man. Or at least, he may tire of war, and decide that he doesn't feel like killing people just because they're on the opposite side."

"You just haven't had any Assassins around to kill. Because you killed them all."

"Oh yes, except for these two right here, who by the way are sometimes annoying enough to make me pull my hair out. And that damnable Mentor of Connor's. You'd like him, Ted, he's reasonable like you."

Before Ted could reply, one of the Assassin guards said, "Oh, good, our relief. I'm looking forward to some peace and quiet."

The other guard laughed. "I haven't heard this much bickering since my husband and my mother had to take care of my daughter together when I was laid up sick after having her."

"Well, your husband, he's got a mouth on him, hasn't he?"

"Yes, well, sometimes that's a good thing."

"I'll bet it is."

The two chuckled and continued chatting as they walked away, and an Assassin approached with two novices. Desmond recognized Mary, James, and Jimmy. Mary brought a tray of food, and Ted reached for it. "Thanks, I'm starving."

"If you're starving, go eat! This is for the prisoner who can't go fetch his own dinner."

"Honestly, Mary! This is ridiculous."

"I'm not going to starve a man to death just because you think he should die. Now open the door already."

Ted fussed with the keys and unlocked the door, and Mary handed the tray to Haytham. "There's a damp cloth to clean up with and a little piece of soap."

He set the tray down and bowed with the utmost sincerity. "My deepest gratitude."

She smiled, looking charmed. Ted looked like he was about to vomit. "All right, stop flirting with my sister."

Haytham smirked. "You must have missed her flirting with me last night." He took the damp cloth and soap and washed his hands and face, sighing with relief, before starting in on his food.

Ted looked half-apoplectic. "You didn't! This is the man responsible for the death of your fiance, and you were just...throwing yourself at him?!"

Mary raised her eyebrows. "You know, I don't actually think he is. Responsible for his death, that is."

"If I am, though, I do apologize most humbly and beg your pardon."

Connor rolled his eyes and shook his head. James was leaning against the wall, ready to enjoy the show, and Jimmy was trying to keep his face hidden with the hood while inching around to be by Desmond and Connor.

Desmond volunteered, "She threw herself at Connor first, if it makes any difference." Mary rolled her eyes at him and stuck out her tongue.

Ted practically shrieked, "I can't believe you, Mary!"

Mary crossed her arms over her chest. "I can't believe you, Ted. Whatever Haytham and his Templars did fifteen years ago, he came here as a guest and asked for our hospitality. And you were practically throwing yourself at him too last night, and don't you deny it! 'Ooh, I wish you were my brother! I love Kenways!'" Ted spluttered inarticulately, and Mary raised her voice above his. "Speaking of people named Kenway, you know that our family owes his family a debt we can never repay, and you know what Mum would say if she found out youof all people wanted to kill 'Edward's little boy, wasn't he so darling, I wonder what he's doing now, if you ever meet him you be sure to tell him what a great man his father was. A philandering drunkard and a blithering idiot at times, but better by half than anyone else I've ever known.'"

Connor looked shocked. "Philandering...drunkard?"

Haytham asked Mary quietly, "What did your fiance look like?"

"Black hair, very pointy nose... he was a short man, and slender. My son takes after him... James, show the man your face." Her voice cracked a little.

James complied warily, and Haytham looked thoughtfully at him. "Ah. Yes, I remember. Child, you can thank Connor here for killing the man who killed your father."

Connor shifted uncertainly from foot to foot. "You are welcome."

"And who sent that man?" Ted asked. "Who trained him and commanded him?"

"You wish me to take responsibility for this man's death? Fine, I do. For continuing this stupid fucking war we have going!" Haytham rattled the bars, raising his voice. "For being an idiot, for being deceived and deluded as a lad, for following my father's murderer and believing his lies. A thousand thousand pardons could never erase the things I've done, but they also can't undo what my son's done, or what you've done, or what anyone's ever done in the entire history of the world! Don't pretend to have the moral high ground when you're wallowing around in the muck right here beside me! I offered you no harm, but I will not stand idly by while you claim to be a better man than I! We have more in common than we differ on, yet we consider each other mortal enemies and decry each other's deeds, as the body count mounts from both sides. Some day, if we can muster a little intelligence between us, Assassin and Templar will be just words, and we who wish to improve the world will discard those words and work together. Oh, forget it. This bickering and infighting is pointless. You're determined to divide the world in two and never acknowledge that the edge between one side and the other is never, ever sharply defined." He rolled his eyes. "I can't count the number of people who think I'm one of you lot, anyway. I even have the damn name of an Assassin. Only a silly and over-eager convert to the Assassins would hold his newborn son in the middle of London, think on his English and Welsh heritage, and give the child an Arabic name."

Ted was gawping at him. Jimmy was gazing at Haytham with rapt hero-worship, and Desmond was smirking. James just looked bored. Connor pointed out, "Perhaps you would not be mistaken for an Assassin so often if you did not so ostentatiously arm yourself with Assassin weapons adorned with Assassin symbols."

"That's probably true. And fighting at your side most likely doesn't help either." Haytham picked up the piece of bread from his dinner tray and sat down on his crate, eating. "'S good bread," he added. "My compliments to the baker."

Ted finally found words. "Fine, perhaps you are not the devil incarnate. But there are many truly evil Templars."

"I never denied that. In fact, we're heading for one of those to rid the world of him. But there are also many horrible Assassins, who pervert your Creed to serve themselves."

Desmond offered, "Seems to me the problem is douchebags. I mean, we're all douchebags 'cause we kill people. But mega douchebags...I've seen a few on both sides. I've been tortured by Templars," he told Ted, "but I still trust this Templar. Maybe it's partly because he's family. But I don't think it's all that." He didn't see the momentary softening of Haytham's face.

Ted threw his hands into the air in frustration. "Look, I'll admit the Templars want what they say is a better world, but it's a world where everyone is enslaved to their will and nobody has any freedom."

Haytham looked at Ted for a minute, then rattled the bars of his cell meaningfully.

"That's always a good counter-argument," Desmond observed. "Do they teach you that in Templar school?"

Ted eyed Desmond, then Connor, then Mary. "There's no way out of this where we kill the damn Templar, is there?"

"Not without angering me," Connor replied.

"Not without being a-what did he call it? Mega douchebag?" Mary added.

"Fine. You know what, I can't stand this anymore. You're free to go, Templar. Just get the hell out of here." He unlocked the cell and swung the door open. "I never want to see your stupid handsome face again. And stay away from my sister!"

Haytham promptly ignored him and bowed over Mary's hand, kissing her knuckles. "My deepest thanks, Mary Burleigh. As the Assassins say, or used to, safety and peace to you and your family."

"And to you and yours, Haytham Kenway." She looked more than a little smitten. "Ah...my son. He wished to accompany you..."

"As it is my son's ship we sail on, it is his permission that is needed..."

Connor looked the young man up and down. "Are you prepared to work hard?"

James scowled, but nodded. "Anything to get away from here." Mary tried very hard not to look hurt, and her son looked at his toes. "Sorry, Mother, I just...I don't want to stay here."

"I understand." She hugged him tightly, and he squirmed.

"I'm not a baby!"

"To me, you'll always be my baby."

"UGH!"

"Behave yourself. And be polite! And be sure to use a toothpick after you eat! Stay away from rum and strange women! Don't get yellow fever!"

"MOTHER..."

"And if you see your Gran on your travels, give her a kiss from me."

"I will, I will."

She brushed imaginary dust off his shoulders and bit her lip. "There you go. I love you, my little lizard." She rumpled his hair.

"MOTHER!"

"Sorry, sorry, you're a big grownup, I forgot, James."

He huffed and stalked over to stand with Desmond and Connor and Jimmy, glowering at Ted.

Haytham put on his hat and coat, looking dapper as ever, and tipped his hat ever so slightly to Mary as he passed. James made a face at his mother, and she cuffed him on the shoulder. "Behave!"

Connor sounded tired and aggrieved. "Now that that has been settled, we still need to find a place to maroon my former crewman."

"Ted probably would rather deal with a straight-up child molester than Pops," Desmond volunteered.

"Ha, no thank you. Dump your garbage elsewhere."

Mary looked thoughtfully at Jimmy, who was trying not to be obviously hanging off of Haytham's arm. "Try going south and west from here. There's a lot of good little islands to strand unwanted tosspots on."

Connor nodded. "Thank you. I shall. Before we go, I need to restock my ship-"

"Already done." She drew close to add, "and that stuff of your grandfather's is in a trunk by your cabin. Your first mate looked very suspicious."

"Oh! I just remembered, I left Connor's coat behind-" Desmond whispered.

"No, it's in the trunk too."

"You're beautiful!" He gave her a very Ezio-esque kiss on the cheek, then rushed off to join his ancestors and the two teenagers. She smiled and touched her cheek, watching until she couldn't see them anymore through the trees.

Ted rolled his eyes and stood beside her. "Right then. Back to work."

A/N: Anne Bonny had two kids with Calico Jack, one who was basically given away to family members in Cuba and wound up going by the name Cunningham, and the one who saved her from hanging. (In AC4, this child dies.) After leaving behind her pirate ways, she settled down in South Carolina and married a man named Joseph Burleigh, with whom she proceeded to have 10 children. She died in 1782, far outliving her pirate contemporaries. Not bad for an illegitimate girl from Ireland who'd had 2 children and gone through 2 husbands, 1 girlfriend (highly likely), and a death sentence, before her 20th birthday.

If you think about it, having a bunch of children was a good survival strategy for her. If her past caught up with her at any point, she'd be "up the duff" and avoid the noose again. Piracy wasn't as good a job as it had been, and by settling down and marrying, she not only had access to whatever money and property her husband had, but she could probably persuade her father to un-disown her now that she was "respectable".

I can't imagine that she would be happy to be a meek little housewife, and I'm sure she kept her children in line a lot better than her father had kept her in line, while also probably taking over significant amounts of both her father's and her husband's businesses. She was a unique kind of badass, a very young woman claiming power in traditionally male pursuits while still maintaining a thoroughly female identity-she never dressed as a man, she never depended on a man other than to get her physically where she needed to go (from Ireland to South Carolina with her father; to Nassau with her first husband, James Bonny; all around the Caribbean with Calico Jack; from prison to South Carolina with probably her father's help and money).

I'm not dissing on Mary Read because I adore me some Mary Read, but Mary got everything she got as a man, not as a woman, and Anne was able to be a woman and claim rights and power that women usually couldn't claim.

So I decided that, in the Assassin's Creed universe, she probably told her kids the coolest bedtime stories about pirates and assassins. And she probably named them after people she slept with in her wild pirate days. (But her husband probably didn't know that, obviously.) And I thought that a couple of her kids might have decided to become assassins, maybe the ones named after assassins, hence Ted and Mary Burleigh, the siblings at cross purposes.

Poor Ted is very aware of his shortcomings, chief among them extreme seasickness, which is very embarrassing when you're the son of a famous pirate. He also has a little bit of a problem with alcohol, which makes him overly friendly and very sincerely emotional. He doesn't actually leave Inagua very much, and whoever is in charge of the Caribbean assassins has made him both the administrator of the island and the head instructor of the little novices. He's really good at his jobs, even if he is a bit of a stick in the mud, and he feels it's his charge to protect the island and its inhabitants. Especially from sneaky Templars.

Mary Burleigh is more of a free spirit like her mom. She joined the assassins because it was a way that a woman could get to travel and do good things and not wither away as a housewife. Which is not to imply that she doesn't believe 100% in being an Assassin, because she totally does. But she has a more complex view of it than her brother does. She also enjoys the greater sexual freedom of "everything is permitted", although she was at one point madly in love with a colonial Assassin and they planned to marry. Inconveniently, she was pregnant in 1763, when the Colonial Rite of the Templars was hunting down and killing Assassins, (possibly not strictly under the orders of the miserably depressed Grand Master, who was very busy moping about his dead father, dead BFF, dead ex, and sister he couldn't figure out how to talk to) and Mary wound up narrowly escaping to Inagua to give birth.

Her fiance was supposed to meet up with her there, but was ambushed and killed by Templars on the way. Mary grieved for him, but wasn't mired in anger like Ted was. And, of course, she named her son after her own namesake's male alter ego. (And also after her own brother who died, because honestly do you think there's any way Anne Bonny would NOT have named her child after her BFF and possibly girlfriend who had been her only companion in prison and had just died horribly right in front of her?)

I have all these notes on these two quasi-OCs and I don't think they'll show up again in the story. Sigh...