Archive of Our Own ^beta

You hold your son in your arms. His tiny face is scrunched and red, and he wriggles, trying helplessly to escape.

"What a little spitfire," Bill laughs.

You don't respond, captivated by the eyes of your son. Exhaustion and joy swirl in your chest.

When the nurse takes him, you are grateful for the chance to rest.

Bill starts training Desmond young.

"I can't believe you let him start so early," Inaya says, her own son held tightly in her arms. She's protective of him.

You don't say It wasn't my choice, because that isn't true. If you'd wanted to, you could have stopped Bill.

Desmond trips and falls. He cries, and you rush to him. You can feel Inaya's eyes on you.

You tell Bill about what Inaya said that night, after Desmond falls asleep. You don't know why it's stuck in your mind.

He laughs.

"How naive," he says. "She should know better than that."

He wraps his arms around your waist. You can feel his heartbeat, steady like a drum.

"We're doing the right thing. We have to be prepared."

You feel safe in his arms.

"I'll talk to Inaya," he says.

Desmond grows so fast. It feels like you blink and he's half a foot taller.

You teach him from stolen schoolbooks Bill and the others bring in one day. They go up to eighth grade.

A few of the other parents have kids older than Desmond. Mikael used to be a teacher, a long time ago, and he helps you draw up lesson plans, using the books as a base.

Desmond doesn't play much with the other kids. He has trouble with his lessons, especially once Bill starts helping you.

Bill knows more about Assassin history than you — you didn't ever bother learning, finding it dry and uninteresting compared to field missions — and his help is welcome. He has trouble explaining the Templar lies in the books to Desmond, though. Once, he gets so frustrated he yells, and Desmond bursts into tears.

At night, you hold Desmond and teach him to read the stars. He traces them with his fingertip.

You tell him about Orion's Belt, and how to follow the north star. He listens with rapt attention.

Your mother taught you these, long ago. It aches to remember her, young forever, barely older than you are now. You don't want Desmond to think of you like that.

It's so easy to talk to Desmond when you're alone.

It's your turn to patrol the perimeter when shouting rises over the generators' low hum. You run back inside just fast enough for you to see Inaya shove her husband away. There are tears in both of their eyes.

Everyone knows they've been having trouble. Nobody has spoken to them, though. You thought they would work it out, if not for themselves then for the mission.

"I'm leaving," Inaya announces. She doesn't look at you as she goes back into her home.

You should follow her. Try to talk some sense into her. You don't.

Bill leaves for another mission. He holds you and Desmond before he goes, kissing you both on the cheek.

Desmond is old enough to say "Gross!"

You laugh.

"Don't worry about me," Bill says. "I'll be back before you know it."

You trust him.

You take on training the kids whenever Bill is gone. You have to be strict; a lot of them, especially the older kids, don't know how important this really is. They're the future of the Brotherhood. They have to be strong, fast, smart, and stealthy.

It feels good to teach them. They sweat, and you sweat too.

Inaya's son stumbles and falls in the leaves.

"Get up!" you tell him. "If you fall, you're dead!"

You wish you could make your father's recipes for Desmond. The ingredients are too difficult for Bill to find, though, too recognizable.

Instead, you follow the nutritional guides Bill and Mikael came up with. A lot of the food they bring is simple, bland, easy to dismiss the purchase of.

You ask Bill for a rice cooker, at least. You think your dad's old one is packed away somewhere back on the coast.

"Too much electricity," Bill says. "We don't need to make rice that often, anyway. Let's focus on healthier foods."

His eyes soften at your expression, and he wraps his arm around your waist.

"For Desmond's sake," he says softly.