Note: Before starting, there are some spoilers for AC4. This is a sort of prequel for my first AC fic.

Disclaimer of AC only story line of fic.

You have been warned.

Silence before a Storm

"The turned spy is successful. He is gathering as much data from within the Abstergo Enterprise computers thanks to the hacking system. John however, is killed after infiltrating the secured area to kill off the spy. Luckily his mind was gone to realize it was a lethal dose." The spectacle man said in a coffee shop uniform standing in front of the Mentor of the Assassins, "But the problem is that Juno has contacted the said spy within the Abstergo's Cloud core system. Also to report is that the spy has also reported John saying he was using him to get Juno to possess him and… umm… Bill, are you listening?" he asked when he didn't get a usual response of anger that always seemed to appear on the Mentor when met with the name of the woman who had taken his son's life.

William Miles head shot up as if realizing the historian was there, blinked and rubbed his eyes, "Yes, yes, I'm sorry Shaun. Continue…"

But the Brit didn't buy that and shook his head knowing what was going on, "No, I think that's all I will report for today. You need to rest Bill. I know you are thinking about those… recordings." He bit his lip as he remembered what was taped as well, "Go to bed. We Assassins can't continue working if we worry for our Mentor's health."

"(Sigh) You are right," the elder said softly, "You can go now, Shaun. Report back tomorrow after your shift and make sure to see if there is anything else our spy has to give us."

"Yes sir," Shaun said and left the room, only looking back in slight worry before closing the door.

William, though promised, to could not leave his chair as he sat in front of his laptop looking at the files he was given by Rebecca from the hacked Abstergo system. He just couldn't think anything other than everything he went thru as he played them. The memos, the…. Autopsy files… he clinched his jaw and closed his eyes as the image of his son's body being taken away by the Templars.

He wanted to hit somebody. Hunt and kill those men that had taken his son's body away before he could even get to it. Cut them up and mince them to patty and serve them to those Templars who seemed to have the tendency to eat everything given to them. He wanted to make the Templars pay and make their fortress of Abstergo to blow up into tiny little bits.

But even though he wanted to, he couldn't. Not with the people he had left. Not with so many, yet so little, Assassin's left out in the world that needs his instructing to somehow weaken the Templar Order. No, he was needed here, and he couldn't, even when he so badly wanted to, to get his son's remains that they are probably trying to extract more memories out of.

He breathed out another sigh, stomping on the again rising anger, to instead opening and moved the mouse cursor on his laptop to the first phone recording. Clicking it to play again, he listened, and committed the voice and words to memory.

The first time he had opened the file and heard the voice of his son… a voice he hadn't heard for a year now… his breath hitched and he had to swallow the hard lump that had formed in his throat. Guilt, sadness, hatred, anger, and ever other emotion that came and went as he just listened to Desmond's voice; a voice he knows he would not be able to hear again in person besides these four recordings.

It was unfair. The world was saved, but at the price of his son's life and no one knew about it besides the Assassins. The Templars were clueless as bees to understand that their life was saved by their enemy. All they knew was that Desmond's body was there, in that god-forsaken Temple, and thought, 'Oh, hey, this is convenient. Let's take his body and extract and milk the info for our cause.'

He went onto the second recording as the first ended; listening to the explanation of Desmond's time in the Animus when he went into the coma. William's thoughts went to those days.

He remembered finding Shaun, Rebecca, the stabbed Lucy, and seizing Desmond on the floor, his heart was clenched as he tried to talk to his son. The thoughts of losing his son overwhelmed him back then when he helped his comatose son into the Animus to stabilize him. He stayed by his side as the days passed, waiting for Desmond to wake up, and commented multiple times that he was going to be kinder to him. A bitter laugh coursed through his throat as he remembered what happened after he did. The actions that he promised was just the opposite; cold, indifferent… he wished a time machine was available for him so he could punch himself and scream; tell him to cherish the time left. Tell him-self that he had only a few days before the times he could spend with Desmond before he is gone.

But there was no way he could.

And he could never change the past.

Then there were those bastards… Those, Precursors, which Came Before… The want to punch those people for choosing his son… HIS SON… to choose the only and only one decision that was right; to save the world instead of starting it all over again…

Desmond chose to save the world, but at the cost of his life… and the release of Juno into this world.

The want to kill them was even more prominent when he recalled Shaun telling him Juno wanted another sacrifice in order to become physical.

The third recording started, and he didn't realize when did his hand automatically clicked for the next file. William couldn't help but smile, melting the anger away, in this next one because he could hear the understanding and happy smile in Desmond's voice of realization. But he couldn't help the lump of pride as well as he also recalled the moment of time when he was trying to train his son.

He recalled telling his son, as mentioned, to try to sneak up on him with silent steps of an Assassin. He recalled as the fifteen minutes passed that he had disappointment course thru him. But he also remembered that he had a feeling… a feeling to believe and continued to wait. William remembered the long hours that passed as he read his book until the slightest of noise alerted him making his heart suddenly leap. He remembered the sudden pride that lightened up his weariness when his son tackled him.

It was so long ago, but he remembered. The weight of his son in his arms when he picked him up with a full blown smile; he never thought that it would hurt his son's pride itself. And he realized that it was after that, that his son became bitter. It was then after he ran, did he realize it.

When he listened to the fourth recording, he couldn't hold back the pressure anymore and let the tears that were building to fall loose. William just couldn't… not when he could imagine seeing his sons face with the expression of a man that was going to his death.

Tears and muffled sobs was all he could do as he clenched a fistful of his peppered hair.

It was a farewell of what was to be the end of his son. When did he do the recording? He didn't know, but he regretted not being by his son when instead talked within his phone. Giving his dying message…

"When you tell my story years from now… please… tell them the one, about how I lost my way… and then found it again. Just in time to save the world. And, and, just end it there. That will keep everyone smiling… Goodbye dad… Say hello to mom. Tell her I love her, okay. Tell her I… uh… love you both…sniff hah… love you both…"

"I love you to, son…" he cried as he sobbed hearing the farewell, "I just wished I could have told you in person."

….

And we well end it here… I bet you are crying your eyes out or something. Don't worry; I did as I wrote this. I just couldn't get over my devastation of hearing that Desmond died… killed off… bring him back! Bring him back, Ubisoft! Desmond can't just die like this! Juno can't win!

….

Okay enough of that. And I was kidding about the end !

I have decided to make this part a little prequel of my fic: Eagles Have No Bounds

VVVVV So keep reading VVVVV

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"I see that you are not as heartless as you seemed to be," an Arabian accented assaulted his hearing, surprising him out of his mourning. The distraught father turned his head to in surprise to find someone seek up to him so easily. In the corner of his room, within the shadows: a man in modern-day, Assassin clothing leaning to the side of the room with three others. One was on the floor, half crossed legs with one propped up for his forearm; another was sitting on an unboxed material; and the other was leaning on the other dark corner, slightly away from them, with arms crossed.

Each one was hidden in the dark and each had their hoods up, obscuring their face even further. But William could see they held a noble atmosphere around them.

"I think he's lost his tongue," said the one on the other corner. His accent was slightly native.

"He was not expecting us, of course," the one on the floor said in slight rough Brit accent.

"Basta, fratelli. Noi lo stiamo spaventando abbastanza, con il nostro ... improvvisa apparizione (Enough, brothers. We are scaring him enough, with our... sudden appearance)," the last was clearly Italian as he spoke.

"Who are you?" William's demanded, eyes narrowing, getting up and hands to the hunting knife he had hidden away in his back pocket, "How did you come in?"

"'Who we are' is not of concerning at the moment," the first spoke straitening his position from the corner, "But the wellbeing of Desmond is."

"What are you talking about?" the Mentor growled, hearing his son's name coming from some stranger putting him on extra edge, and bewilderment for the strangers words, "My son is dead!"

"No, not quite," the Italian answered halting the rage in the Mentor.

"What?"

"Desmond is still alive apparently," the Brit stretched, hopping up to his feet.

"But we can't get near him without exposing ourselves to the world too much and cause a stir," the one in the corner added.

"How can your existence be stirring if I don't even know who you are?" William asked eyes narrowed to suspicion even more.

"What are you talking about, Signor William. You do know," the Italian said a smile could be heard within its tone, "After all you have seen us in the Animus recordings from your son."

"Mine just recently, if your spy has also given it to you."

William's eyes widened at the suggestion as the realization hit him, "You people… are…"

The first person stepped into the light, a slight smirk on his scared lip only could be seen. But it was enough for William to confirm his conclusion, "I did say; extending life with the Apple could be possible."

"Even though some by force," the one in the corner said.

"Enough of that, kid," the voice, that now William recognized from the spy's recording, as the one that was posted as 'kid' seemed to darken in mood slightly, "We need help on retrieving your son. I hate lies that Templars produce and I never lie to children. Especially to my own…"

"But-"

"Do you still wish to believe your bambino is dead?" the Italian asked cutting off the uncertainty.

William pursed his lips together looking at the four before him before answering, determination in his eyes, "What do you need?"

They all smirked in similar manner, before the Arabian accent answered, "Bring your trusted tech and historian up. We have a lot to plan. Locating Desmond is going to be tricky with the Templars playing coy. But I doubt that with the knowledge of him being alive, it will make them breach anything."