I don't own AC. Or the historical figures, places and events in this story. Only my OC's.

Tiny fragments of memories had returned first. Flashing through his half consciousness like weak dreams. A profile of a person visible for just an instant before fading. The sound of a train door closing before the silence of his mind took over again. There was no sense or logic to the things he saw, heard or smelt. And Carey didn't care. To think was a task to difficult to even comprehend. All he could do was simply be.

The visor retracted and Leto took a shallow breath, slowly blinking. Her experience with Saja has been an eye opener. She felt different, but couldn't quite put a finger on it. As she stared up into the dark recesses of the vaulted ceiling, she tried to process the event in her ancestors life. It hasn't been traumatic, nor had it been life changing. She had not been the one giving birth. She just helped the other woman, Maria. Both the mother and child survived. The father had been happy. Saja's own children had been safe. So why did she now feel so empty and cold?

She became aware of her own hand, resting comfortingly on her belly. Just as Saja's had done. Realisation slowly dawned. She had liked the feeling of being a mother. Of being pregnant. She suddenly missed her family. The emptiness was loneliness. The more she thought, the more she realised just how isolated she was.

She had no friends or family here, not really. The only reason she had moved was for the job Abstergo had offered her. Her little apartment which she rented was a gloomy place. And she spent most of her life here, at Abstergo, working. Among people who ignored her. Or looked down on her.

With her shoulders slumped, she pushed off the bed, and sat at the desk. Half heatedly finishing to bring the animus back online and onto the network.

She had been in Italy for two years, and she had not even traveled the country. Seen its beauty, visited its history. No, on her days off, she would immerse herself in an imaginary world, the fictional places and people on TV and in books. Even the few people she considered friends were all work related. A frown crossed her face as she realised that even those people she did not know well. She was possibly closest to Carey, but what did she really know about him? When they visited that closest thing Italy has to a pub, all they did was drink and gripe about work.

Her life was vastly different to Saja's, and now comparing the two, she wasn't sure she was happy with how she was living her life. Saja had never been offered much in the way of opportunity, but the way she had made the most of what she had, despite the limitations of circumstance and culture made Leto feel ashamed, as if she was squandering her freedom.

Scrubbing a hand over her face, Leto made the split second decision to go home for the night, not to crash at work. She knew she didn't know or understand what was going on around her. Only that she wasn't comfortable with Abstergo pulling the wool over her eyes, or how they fitted in with the Templars and Assassins. All she did know was that she didn't feel as safe at Abstergo as Saja did with those Assassins.

Lucy worked diligently. Tagging interesting things, people and events in Desmond's Animus sessions. He was slowly learning, putting things together. He was smart. The son of the Grandmaster of Assassins. The man who spewed lies and left her in the midst of the enemy. Broken promises and faded dreams. That's all he offered her and the Assassins. At least Desmond had been able to escape. He knew what his father was, the type of man, and he hated him for it. She looked down at Desmond laying on the Animus. She schooled her features, dropping the small, soft smile that she felt tugging at her lips. Desmond was just like her. And he was so nice, and sweet. With a voice to die for, not to mention a seriously hot body. She let her eyes rake over his form for a moment.

He had been nice to her, without expecting anything back. That meant something to her.

Returning her attention to the Animus, she monitored his biometrics. He was getting tired again. Brain fatigue was slowing some of the processors down. Her lips twitched into a thin line. There was a fine line that needed to be walked. Between extracting the information, keeping Desmond alive and keeping the Assassins on the back foot.

She had a plan, but was concerned that she was being left out of the loop. She had received no response to her requests for extraction. Fury boiled in the pit of her stomach as she knew that they were more than likely planning a rescue attempt for Desmond, and yet ignoring her. She had been thrown into the lions den, and left to be eaten had her foolish belief in freedom gotten her? Betrayed and forgotten. But she would show them just how wrong they were.

Lucy glanced down at Desmond again. She knew he didn't understand yet. But he would eventually. Just because you were born an Assassin didn't mean you couldn't become enlightened. Haytham Kenway and Daniel Cross were prime examples. He just needed time.

She started the extraction and shut down sequence. Desmond needed to eat and sleep. And when he opened his eyes, she would be the friendly face that would help him.

Leto returned to work the next day feeling better about herself. She had risen early, determined to do something new, something different. The melancholy she had felt the previous evening had been replaced with a desire to act, to do something, anything. The new mind set had seen her take a different route into work, forgoing the direct route on the autostrada. The winding roads had taken her through modern towns and picturesque villages. She had found a traditional panifico, open at that early hour, the sweet scent of freshly made bread and pastry wafting onto the street.

Strolling onto the Animi floor, she felt herself return to the excited buzz she normally had at work. Only now, it was tempered with something a little more foreboding yet thrilling. Her eyes no longer just saw the technological wonders before her, but also the potential for secrets hidden within.

Throwing herself at the next Animus that needed rebuilding, she let the work flow through her. There was a satisfaction in what she was doing, an Animus may not have been alive, but she took pride in caring for them. The noise volume on the floor steadily increased as her colleagues arrived for work and went about their tasks. But too Leto, it wasn't a distraction, but a comforting background noise. She would repair the machines, look after them, and they in turn would teach her what really was going on.

Throughout the morning, she divided her time between rebuilding the Animus and rushing off to fix issues on machines that were being used. She found herself concentrating more on her surroundings. Where as only a few days ago, she would have barely given a glance to documents and recordings that the scientists and researchers had, she new found herself discreetly speed reading them, or pausing a second or two longer to really take a good look. And the more she read, the more patterns and similarities kept popping up.

There was no doubt in her mind that some major conspiracy was afoot. And she was going to unravel it.

Peter sat in his office, looking out over the Animus floor. Despite the lack of reliable intel coming from the research team in finding artifacts and locations from those who came before, he had to grudgingly admit that they were all working well. There were a couple of promising leads from a researcher studying 15th Century China.

He was however disappointed that Leto seemed to have recovered some of her ignorant bounce. He had hoped to drive a wedge between her and John, yet they both seemed to be on good terms even after that little spat in the elevator.

O'Moal seemed to be clean. In a coma, but not attached to the Assassins in any way. It was frustrating. Peter had been so sure that Carey O'Moal had been an assassin. He lacked conviction in the cause, which Peter found disturbing. Peter had spoken to Vidic about the research Carey had been doing. Vidic had dismissed it on the grounds that Mr O'Moal's ancestor had never found concrete proof of the existence of the piece of eden. Erich Albert had been after the piece of eden hidden at Rennes-le-Château. But that piece of eden had disappeared shortly after it was thought to have been discovered by 19th-century priest Bérenger Saunière. As Vidic had pointed out, the Templars had held a presence at Rennes-le-Château for years before and after the discovery. Records indicated that the piece of eden had been stolen long before world war one, which would indicate that Erich Albert had been fed misinformation. Peter could see that Vidic's logic was true, and was severely disappointed. He almost felt like switching off O'Moal's life support just because it all turned out to be a waste of time.

Leto stood in the blue swirling clouds of the Animus loading screen, patiently waiting for the machine to load up the next memory. She had seen that it was a comparatively short memory and had not hesitated to initiate playback, even though it was the middle of the day.

The world around her flashed white and started to pixelate into the now familiar surroundings of Masyaf.

The sky was streaked pink with the first rays of dawn, yet the village was still in deep darkness. She was carrying the heavy water jar on her head, softly humming a walking tune to take her mind off the uncomfortable weight and early morning chill. She headed to her mother's house where she had left her child. The Grandmaster, his wife and son were leaving this morning on the journey that may well take them years. She didn't like the idea that the leader of the Assassins was leaving for so long, but it was not her place to cultivate such thoughts, let alone speak them aloud.

"Imthithal, hurry up with the water." Her mothers voice softly carried from the open door. She entered and gently set the large jar down on the floor when her father appeared.

"Good morning Saja my wife." He said smiling, and pressed a soft kiss to the back of her mothers head. Imthithal averted her eyes at her parents display of affection. Sadness filled her stomach as her own marriage was not as happy as that of her parents. She deeply wished she could have a relationship with her husband just like that of her parents, but it seemed it was not destined to be. Despite bearing a son, her husband was more interested in the politics of the Assassins and his brotherhood than he was in his wife. He father turned to her, a smile on his lips.

"Good morning daughter. Thank you for helping us out at such an early hour. Have you seen your brothers?"

"No baba, I believe that they were going to escort the master down from the castle. They will be a while away yet" she replied, passing him a bowl of steaming porridge. He needed his thanks, stirring his breakfast. "And my grandson?" Imthithal alowed a ghost of a smile to pass her lips as she replied.

"Asleep in my old bed baba. It is still to early for him."

The sun had only started to peak above the surrounding mountains, when the voices of the would be travellers reached them. Saja went into a frenzy of shooing people out of the house and making sure that everyone looked presentable. Imthithal enjoyed those moments when she felt that the burden of raising a child, managing a house and looking after a husband was lifted. For just a few precious seconds she could go back to being just Kahil and Saja's daughter.

She followed her parents down to the square in front of the gates of Masyaf. Already, a few other villages had gathered, ready to see the grandmaster and his family off on their mission. Looking up the hill, she could make out the bouncing lights and shadows that told of torch bearers lighting the way through the gloomy streets. Not that the assassins needed the help, it was more as a sign of respect that they did it. Imthithal stood back with her mother and the other women who had come to see the Assassins off, a respectful place for a woman. She watched her father nervously bounce on the balls of his feet. His apprentice standing slightly behind him holding two boxes.

The procession rounded the corner and entered the courtyard. She could make out her brothers Marzuq and Tamim holding torches. She also spotted Al Tayyib among the Assassins following. Imthithal raised her eyebrows as the wind carried the sounds of an argument.

"No, you are not listening to me. I refuse to stay here. I will travel to Mongolia by the side of my husband. I will not have it any other way." Maria's clear voice resonated across the courtyard.

"Maria, think of yourself. The journey will be long. And we are no longer as young as we used to be. Do you wish the spend the next couple of years exposed to the elements every day on horseback, unsure of where your next meal is coming from, enduring sleepless nights on the ground? Not to mention the dangers from bandits and templars along the way."

Maria snorted at that. "Don't you dare pull that weak women excuse with me. I am just as capable as any of you. This mission is important, and nothing is going to stop me from fighting at the side of my husband and son. Besides, I have always wished to visit the far east."

"I wouldn't argue with her Malik. Her mind was made up weeks ago." Altairs voice carried a low soothing tone as he tried to placate his second. He noticed Kahil standing by the gate and beckoned him over.

"I have a gift for you and Darim. They are the best Kahil has ever made." Altair said turning to his wife a son.

Kahil took one box from off his apprentice and approached Maria, opening the lid.

"The grandmaster informed me that your favourite short blade was damaged during training last month. It has been reforged for you, as close to the original as possible." Kahil said, offering the opened box to Maria. She grinned in response, and plucked the blade from the interior.

"This is truly excellent work Kahil. Thank you." She said, holding it out in her hand and testing its balance.

Kahil nodded his thanks before fetching the last box from his apprentice and approached Darim.

"Master Darim. It was brought to my attention that the place you would be travelling to would be extremely cold during the winter months. Please accept this modified crossbow. The limbs have been tripled lacquered so they will not shatter in the cold. The stirrup and riser have been tempered to account for the extreme in temperature." Kahil said proudly, handing Darim the weapon.

"Thank you Khahil, Thank you father. This will be truly useful during the times to come." Darim ran his hands over it, his practised eye taking in the modifications.

"Well come along. We are going to be wasting daylight." Maria called, impatient to get started. "Altair, this is why we said our goodbyes to everyone yesterday. We need to get moving."

Altair for his part merely lifted his hood over his head, a smirk playing faintly over his lips. Leaving his wife and son to secure the panniers and mount their steeds, Altair turned one last time to Malik.

"I am leaving the Order in your very capable hands Malik." He said softly, grasping Maliks forearm in a close handshake.

"There is still much to be done Altair. And no matter how capable I am, I am not the mentor. You would do well to think on that. I wish you safety and peace as well as your speedy return." Malik replied somberly.

"I know Malik. I do know. Safety and peace brother." Altair murmured, dropping his friends arm and mounting his steed.

No words were said as they watched the small group ride off.

John slouched at the Animus he was rebuilding. He had been seriously put out with seeing Leto bob around the Animus floor this morning in an obvious good mood. He supposed it must be a cover of some sort. She was so ridiculously perky no one could ever suspect her of being an Assassin, much that same way it was laughable to think that his obese arse had sworn an oath to protect freedom. Still, cover or not, it was really very annoying.

Screwing the cover back onto the machine, he hauled his weight onto the desk chair. Glancing through the glass wall of the office, he could see Leto climbing onto an Animus. He frowned at the action. Technically speaking, when rebuilding an Animus, you didn't have to actually go in to check the build. It was good practise, but not necessary on machines that had an easy rebuild and no bug reports. And yet, he realised that he had seen her in every single Animus she had rebuilt. Not only that, she had spent time in there, more than the half hour it should take to run though the test sims. Loading up the compile programmes, he let the Animus run on auto, and wandered over to the cubical office Leto was in. The live feed monitor was blank which was odd. She obviously didn't want anyone snooping into watch she was doing, but that just made John curious. Moving to switch the feed on, his tablet started beeping at him, a message flicking up that Jane was having issues with her Animus again. John's eyes flicked over Leto's prone form as he decided that he would much rather go an watch Jane's ancestor than whatever Leto was doing. It was probably just a test sim anyway.