Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft

Inside of me, doors will stay open, a thousand lives to livewaiting like universes do without an end! Love break into my innocence!Innocence, innocence, innocence, innocence, innocence! — Tarja

Edward opened his eyes when he heard the doorbell ring. "What the hell?" he grumbled staring at the clock which read six-thirty. He wondered who could come to him at six-thirty in the morning. He pulled the pillow over his head, hoping whomever was at the door would just leave him alone. The doorbell rang again. "Fuck."

Edward got out of bed and pulled on his robe he hoped it wasn't Mary. Nobody was hiring at the moment, since they all had their holiday staff positions already filled. He was thankful that Ádewalé still gave him a job at his auto-shop. Edward yawned as he yanked the door open, "What do…" he trailed off when he saw Jenny standing there, all bundled up for the New England winter. "Jenny?"

"Happy Christmas, Dad!" Jenny said, hugging her father. "Surprise, huh?"

Edward hugged his daughter. "Well, yeah. I thought you were stopping off at New York to see ya mom?"

"Well, I was," Jenny said, slipping inside. Edward closed the door. "But after what you told me about Haytham and everything that has happened, I felt it would be best if I came here first and visit Mum for the New Year."

Edward looked at his feet, a smile on his face. "Thanks Jenny, I appreciate it."

"So, how's it been going?"

"Terrible, I can't seem to get a second job, everyone already has their holiday staff and they won't consider hiring anyone until after the holidays."

"Well, that sucks," Jenny said, "are they going to let you see Haytham for Christmas?" Jenny asked.

Edward ran his hand through his hair before going and fixing a pot of coffee. "Do you want tea?" he asked his daughter.

"Nah, coffee," Jenny said.

"And no," Edward answered, "they haven't. I… I'm reluctant to ask them. They may say no. You know I have to schedule to take a psych test! A psych test, like I'm some common criminal! I didn't do anything wrong, Jenny! The charges were dropped, but they still take Haytham away from me!"

Jenny pulled out a chair and sat down, drumming her fingers on the table top. "I know it's not fair Dad, but… they are just doing their jobs."

"I know," Edward said, opening the fridge and pulling out a box of day old donuts. "Donuts?"

"Sure," Jenny said with a shrug. Her father put them on a plate and set them in the middle of the table. "You'll pass this test, I mean, you aren't a psychopath or anything."

"It's the principle of the matter," Edward growled, "but you're right. They can't find anything wrong with me."

"Just jump through the hoops," Jenny said. "And before you know it, you'll have Haytham back."

"Thanks Jenny," Edward said. The phone rang, and he got to his feet, and grabbed the device. "Hello?" Edward answered. "Mrs. Miles… uh-huh… uh-huh…r-really?" Edward asked. "I don't care if it's supervised or whatever, I get to see him? C-Can his sister come to? Yes, my daughter, Jenny… she's visiting for the holidays… she goes to school in London… really? Oh thank you, Lucy, thank you! Afternoon is fine, whenever actually. I'm just… happy I get to see my boy on Christmas. Yes, thank you again," Edward said and hung up the phone.

"What was that about?" Jenny asked, as she poked the donuts until she found the lemon jelly filled one.

"Lucy got the green light to let me go see Haytham on Christmas," Edward said, rubbing at his eyes, "you can come too. It's a supervised visit, so she'll be there, but… I get to see Haytham."

Jenny's eyes widened and she set her donut down. "That's brilliant Dad!" Jenny said, getting up and hugging her father tightly. Edward hugged his daughter, though all he could think about was that he'll be able to see his son on Christmas.

Haytham shoved the items around his desk. "Where is it? Where is it?" he grumbled. He had yet to find his journal in his frantic search. His father and Jenny were coming to visit him for Christmas. He didn't have anything to give him, but he had told Birch what his sister and father liked and the man had agreed to pick up something that Haytham can give his family for Christmas. "Darn it, where is it!" Haytham shouted, slamming his hands on his desk before pushing away.

He walked over to his dresser, yanked the drawer open and began to look through his clothes. "Where is my journal!" he growled. The room remain silent to his frustrated inquiry. He looked through the other drawers before slamming the last of them closed and going to his bed. He pulled back his pillow, the corners of his mattress, even peaked under his bed. Nothing. Nothing! "Oh, man! Where is it!" he rubbed his forehead, getting anxious about his missing journal.

The pouch Ziio made hung on the back of his chair, his pen and her new address still within, but his journal had vanished. Haytham felt a knot of anxious frustration tangle in his chest, and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

The door creaked open. Haytham turned, balling his hands into fists. "Starrick," Haytham growled, as he looked at the other boy over his shoulder.

"Kenway," Starrick drawled and held up a leather bound book, Haytham emblazon in gold lettering. "Looking for this?"

Haytham lunged for his journal but Starrick snatched it back. "Give it here, Starrick," Haytham said, holding out his hand.

"Uuuh…" Starrick made a show of thinking about it, "no." He said, smirking like the devil himself. "I don't think I will."

"Starrick, it's mine," Haytham said tightly. "So, please give it back."

"I told you no, Haytham," Starrick said and opened the journal. "Who's Ziio?" Starrick asked. Haytham stayed silent. "Is she your girlfriend? Do you looove her?"

"Shut up, Starrick and give me back my journal."

"And I told you no, now answer my question."

"No," Haytham hissed.

Starrick frowned. "Well, it doesn't matter who she is," he said after a moment, "I bet she doesn't even like you anymore. I bet that's why she moved," Starrick added, "because of you. She hates your guts."

Haytham flinched and took a step forward. "That's not true! Ziio and I are good friends! We like each other a lot! She had to move because of her family, I'm sure!"

"Right," Starrick sneered, "keep telling yourself that Nathan."

"It's Haytham!" Haytham shouted. "Besides, at least Ziio isn't related me. Unlike Pearl." Starrick went still, eyes narrowing to slits. "That's right," Haytham continued, "I know you have a crush on your cousin, Pearl Attaway. I saw her picture in your room one day when Reginald made me drop off your clean laundry. And you know what I think?"

"Enlighten me," Starrick hissed.

"I think it's gross. She's your cousin. Family. That's just wrong."

"She's my second cousin!" Starrick pointed out. "Hardly going to foul the gene pool. But at least I still have some members of my family that care about me! Pearl cares about me! Unlike your father!"

"What about my father?" Haytham asked, shoulders dropping a bit.

"I know the real reason you're here, Kenway," Starrick said, "your father abandoned you. He didn't want you anymore because he never loved you."

Haytham felt the blood drain from his face. "No… no that's not true," Haytham whispered, "that's not true."

"My father is in prison for nefarious business dealings and my mother is dead, my brothers are older than me and the rest of my family didn't want to explain why they suddenly took me in. Being a member of high society, you have to consider such things," Starrick said. "So I got placed here, with Reginald. At least my family comes and visits me, at least my family calls and I'm allowed to take vacations with them."

"My father loves me," Haytham insisted, even though doubt gnawed at his heart. "He's coming to visit me for Christmas."

"While I get to go to my brother's for Christmas," Starrick said. "I bet he didn't even want to come and see your ugly mug."

"Shut up!" Haytham shouted. "That's not true! I know it! He didn't want me to be taken away! He would've fought the police and Ms. Lucy if he could!"

"Then why didn't he?" Starrick countered. "If he loved you so much, why didn't he fight the police?"

"I… I…" Haytham stammered. "I don't know," he finally whispered.

"I know," Starrick said, his voice full of malicious glee. "It's because he never loved. He never wanted you and was all too happy to let the cops take you away. And your mother," Starrick said.

"No," Haytham said, marching towards Starrick. "No, you leave my mother out of this!"

"She died because she hated you," Starrick said, "I bet she shot herself in the head to get away from you! She never wanted you at all! You were the biggest mistake of her life!"

Haytham punched Starrick in the nose. "I told you to leave my mother out of this!" Haytham shouted. The other boy dropped Haytham's journal and staggered back. Haytham kicked his journal into his room and advanced on Starrick. "She loved me! This I know for a fact! I heard her say it!" Haytham said.

"Heh, probably for your benefit," Starrick goaded. Haytham gnashed his teeth before he punched Starrick in the face, but the other boy dodged, ducking beneath Haytham's punch and slammed his fist into Haytham's stomach.

Haytham gasped as the wind was knocked out of him and grunted when Starrick punched him in the face. Haytham stumbled back into the wall, rattling the landscape pictures Birch had hung upon. Starrick went for him again, but Haytham grabbed Starrick by his shirt and tried to kick him. Starrick countered by grabbing Haytham's shirt and the two twisted and turned, grabbling with each other.

They inched closer and closer to the stairs, Haytham's foot caught Starrick's and the two tumbled down the stairs, grunting as they fell. Haytham landed on his back, the wind bursting free from his lungs in a painful gasp. Starrick punched him the in face, holding him down with one hand.

Haytham tasted blood in his mouth, and a mixture of blood and snot dribbled down his nose. He punched Starrick in the armpit, twisted his way free, and pounced on the other boy. He punched Starrick in the face. "That was for my father," he hissed, "that's for my mother." Another punch. "That's for Ziio." Starrick spat blood. "And that's for me!" Haytham swung but two strong arms had pulled him off of the boy. "Hey, lemme go! Lemme go!"

"What in the world is going on!" Birch asked, setting Haytham down. Starrick sat up, sniffing and wiping the blood from his face. "Both of you explain yourselves, now!"

"Starrick stole my journal and said my parents hated me," Haytham said. Birch stared at Starrick. "So, I punched him."

"You call those punches?" Starrick goaded. Haytham lunged but Birch held him back.

"Crawford, apologize."

"Why should I? He started it," Starrick protested.

"I don't care, I'm telling you to apologize, so apologize!" Birch shouted. Starrick remained stubbornly mute. "Fine, both of you will go to your rooms and stay there until I say you can come out, do I make myself clear?" Birch asked, as he went into the kitchen and grabbed two rags. He handed one to Haytham and the other to Starrick. "So you can clean your faces. Now, go!"

The boys glared at each other before Starrick headed up to his room. Haytham made to go but Birch stopped him. "Haytham, your father doesn't hate you," Birch said.

"But… what if he does?" Haytham whispered. "I said some mean things to him a few days before Ms. Lucy came and took me away and I—"

"Children say mean things all the time to their parents," Birch said, cutting Haytham off. "Your father loves you. If he didn't he would never have bothered to come visit you on Christmas."

"Yes, but—"

"He loves you, Haytham," Birch said, his voice stern. Haytham sighed before heading up to his room.

Christmas morning was dull, though Haytham had to admit it was nice that Starrick was gone. Haytham had assumed his position on the couch, curling up with The Mouse and His Child. He liked the story so far, even though it made him miss his own father. Haytham looked up when Birch nudged him with a wrapped box. "Merry Christmas, Haytham," Birch said.

"Oh," Haytham marked his page, "thank you," he said. He accepted the gift and methodically tore the paper. "A calligraphy set?" Haytham mumbled, looking up at Birch.

"Yes, so you can make pretty entries in your journal," Birch said. "Your father should be here soon. Are you excited to see him?
"Yeah… I guess," Haytham mumbled. "Do you think… do you think he still loves me?" Haytham asked.

"I know he still loves you," Birch said. "Your sister is coming too."

"Yeah, it's just that it's supervised and everything," Haytham said. "Do they really think that my father is going to do something bad?"

"It's the law Haytham. There is no way around it," Birch said. "Don't worry, after the New Year the courts will start taking cases again and I'm sure your father will regain custody of you in no time."

"Can… Can we still play chess?" Haytham asked, then blushed. "I… I mean, if you have time and it's allowed and…" he stopped. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Birch chuckled, "of course we can still play chess. "You are a worthy opponent and I enjoy playing with you."

"Really? Thanks," Haytham said. "I like playing with you too." Haytham said, and then his head snapped into the direction of the door. Birch followed the boy's gaze, got up and answered it. Haytham leaned over the back of the couch, listening to the voices. He recognized Ms. Lucy's.

"Haytham? You in here?" a familiar voice called. Haytham sat up like an eager puppy.

"Jenny!" he cried, vaulting over the couch and rushing into the arms of his half-sister. "Jenny! It's so good to see you!" Haytham shouted, as he squeezed her tightly. "How's London? Where's father?"

"Dad's parking the car, couldn't find a bloody parking space closer. So he sent me on ahead," Jenny said, ruffling her little brother's hair. "I brought you some things," she said and pulled into a view a carrying-on suitcase. "I made you some nice clothes, very fashionable and I also found this in a bookshop up in Darlington," Jenny said and handed Haytham a wrapped package. "Happy Christmas little brother."

"Thanks Jenny," Haytham said and picked at the tapped down corner until it popped open and carefully took the wrapping paper off. His eyes grew wide. "English Swords from the 5th Century to the 21st Century," Haytham read the title, "wow. This is cool!"

"I knew you'd like it, since you like fencing," Jenny said. "By the way, Haytham… what happened to your face?"

"Nothing," Haytham mumbled, suddenly conscious of the bruises on his face.

"Where is he?" a familiar voice asked. "Where's my boy?"

Haytham peered passed his sister and saw his father. "Mr. Kenway, I'm Reginald Birch, your—"

"Yeah, hi," Edward said, patting Birch on the shoulder. His eyes were focused on his son. "Haytham."

"Father!" Haytham shouted, handing the book to Jenny and running into Edward's arms. Edward laughed, and swung his son around. "I missed you, Father! I missed you so much!"

"I'm here now, Haytham, I'm here now," Edward said. "I'm here now."

I wanted to do the complete visit but I think it deserves its own special chapter because this is supposed to be a really big deal for both Edward and Haytham and I want to do my best on it. :3

But OMG! I finally got this stupid fucking fight done! Now Starrick can go back to being a background character. Ugh! I hope you enjoy this chapter. :3 Sorry it took me so long to get up.

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Nemo