That very night, Arno wakes back in his own time, and with a new sense of determination to do whatever it takes to save Elise. It's more than likely impossible, but he knows he'll try anyway. He has to, because he knows now that there is nothing as important as Elise. Nothing.

So he fights, against templars, against guards, against Germaine. Against anyone and everyone that wants to keep him away from Elise. And when there's no one to fight, he holds her. However he can. Quick touches, on her shoulder, her arm, the back of her head. To remind himself that she's still alive.

"What are you doing?" she asks, after a day or two of this. "Arno, you've never been like this before."

He knows better than to tell her the truth, not when he has no proof and no way to back up his claims. "I've missed you," he says instead, which is not a lie, and also worth it for the quick smile she sends his way.

"Stop it," she says. "This is serious."

"Of course," Arno says, but he doesn't stop and she doesn't insist. "Elise…"

"What?"

"Promise me you won't throw your life away," he says. "When we find Germaine…"

"You don't understand, Arno," she says, and now she does draw away from his touch. "I have to avenge my father, and I don't care what happens to me."

"But I care."

And he does, he cares more than it should be possible to care. And when Elise falls at the Temple, exactly as he'd seen it in Helix, he realizes exactly how much that is. He thought he'd been hurt as much as it's possible to be hurt, but now he knows he's wrong. That knowledge had been softened by time and distance. This is his own life, this is real, and Elise is really dead.

That's the last night Arno spends in his own time. He wakes up the next morning in the twenty first century and swears to himself that he will never go back. In as much as he has any choice in the matter, he will fight with every fiber of his being to stay away from the time that took everything from him.

He falls back into the life of Jean Dupont, buries Arno Dorian deep in the back of his own mind. This isn't like before, when he wasn't sure who he was. Now he knows, he knows with absolute certainty because no matter how hard he tries he can't forget. Months pass, months in which all he has is emptiness and painful memories. He sees no one during that time, and that's the best part of all. No one in this time cares who he is or where he's from, so they leave him in peace.

Then Shaun comes back. He comes straight to Arno's apartment and bangs on the door until the neighbors start sticking their heads out to complain. Then, finally, Arno opens the door and lets him in. "What are you doing here?" he asks, when Shaun has taken in the whole of the room. It doesn't take long- Arno hasn't added much to it since the day he first woke up. It's still as devoid of personality as it had been then.

"I left my number," Shaun says. "I thought you'd be in contact."

"Don't take it personally," Arno says. "I don't deal with stuff well."

"I'm picking up on that, yea," Shaun says. "So you're… I mean, you're back."

"And planning to stay," Arno says. "It's almost funny. I spent so much effort trying to convince you who I am and where I'm from and now I wish you'd been right."

Shaun raises a hand like he's going to pat Arno on the shoulder, then lets it drop. "Sorry," he says. "I'm not good at comfort. Or most things involving people, really. But I've been looking at your memories."

"I've been trying not to," Arno says, with a quick flash of a grin he doesn't really feel.

"I guess I can sort of understand why you'd want to leave your century."

"Yea," Arno says. "Not much left there."

"But I don't understand why you'd want to leave the assassins."

Arno shrugs. "I only joined in the first place for revenge," he says. "I'm not sure how much of an assassin I ever really was."

Shaun doesn't bother responding, only scoffs disdainfully.

"What?" Arno demands.

"How many assassins do you think joined for big, noble reasons? Most of us are in the order because we have nowhere else to go, or we have family here, or- I mean, revenge is a pretty common motive, too."

"And you're just telling me that because you think it'll make me stay," Arno says. "You think I should."

"I think you could," Shaun says. "I mean, who cares why you joined? The point is you did, and we could use as much help as we can get."

Arno sighs and goes to the window. The sight of the city, alive and awake below him, has always been soothing to Arno. Now, his mind paints a scene of his own time on top of this century's reality, and for a second he imagines the twenty first and eighteenth centuries existing side by side. He doesn't know what to think, anymore, or where he belongs. Then he blinks and shakes his head, banishing his memories. This is where he is now. He says- "It's not like I can promise I'll always be here."

Shaun makes a wordless noise of agreement from behind him.

"I don't even know how I got here in the first place."

"I get that."

"But I might as well see what I can do while I'm here." He shrugs, without looking up from his examination of the street outside. Maybe this is his second chance- an opportunity to see the order through new eyes, without the bad blood and distractions that have marred the past few years of his life. He can find out if there's something more here, after all. Something deeper. This could be the right place for him, after all.

It's worth trying, for a while anyway.

-/-

Short ending because I really had no idea how to wrap this up, but hey I did my best.