#is an exploration of Lucy joining the Templars | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

balladofthesadcat · 6 years ago

Text

Back From The Dead

Pairing: AC’s Clay Kaczmarek x f!reader

Summary and explanations: Screw canon, Clay deserved better so here we go, angst and pain and troubles, but he is brought back to life and gets his happy ending with reader. (Y/N) means Your Name. There is a part where he briefly sings, that short line is from Monty Python’s Life of Brian (fun fact :3).

Warnings: some swearing, angst, mentions of violence and a whole lot of tears.

Word count: 10.941 words

Author’s note: HAPPY CLAYDAY2019!!!! I am late but... Let’s give this man the love he deserves! Dedicated to @ass-sass-sin-o who thought up this beautiful occasion. Also tagging @marshmallow--3 who was also really supportive. Everybody: PLEASE ENJOY! LET’S LOVE CLAY KACZMAREK! <3333333

You sat there, staring at the computer screen, your blood pressure reaching another peak of the recent times, just like on many other occasions during these last few weeks. Actually, it had been going on for a little over a month now. You’d find new and new pieces of evidence, traces, digital footprints and outright records of them, their exchanges, and… The remains.

It started out as just another curious vigilante exploration. You knew Abstergo was plain filth, that was old news. There were times when you had bumped into something shady which you then traced back to them and then intervened, operating from the shadows, making good use of your hacking skills, stirring up a nice little storm for them that was just enough to cut that branch off. On some other occasions, you’d even venture to sneak in to some places where, let’s say, no regular person was supposed to. You’d steal, destroy or just tamper with something to make the whole thing useless for them. So, to put it simply, you had been a thorn in their side for a long-long time now. You were the Faceless, you went by that name. If ever you appeared somewhere physically, you’d take extreme care to protect your identity, hiding your face from view, leaving no fingerprints either. If ever you contacted the Assassins, despite being on their side, you’d never reveal yourself. And even in your hacking you’d be neat and someone would have to be your exact image inside-out to be able to trace it back to you and find you at the root of all chaos to the Templars. All in all, in whatever you did, you were neat and precise. Oh, you loved dealing out a series of good beatings and you’d gotten used to killing sprees as well, but even the way you executed that was like a piece of art, a performance which only you could manage. Naturally, both sides attempted to make a deal with you and recruit you, but you would never join the Templars for you could never share their views and as for the Assassins, you felt that you could be most helpful if you remained faceless even for them, always keeping in touch, always appearing in the right moments, but remaining a myth, sort of. You were like an element in an equation that wouldn’t reveal its full potential until the final showdown, the solution, which no one knew when was to come. And this was working – you easily mended your secret life to fit next to the one on the surface. In the beginning, it was a hobby which then became a purpose, but you had the freedom to be your own boss in both, which was convenient. You could make use of your skills and the handsome money you earned when you needed them as the Faceless, providing yourself with the physical requirements - both bodily and the tools. You didn’t keep track of every Assassin, but whenever you came in contact with one or more of them, you’d gather some intel just to know what and how to say and what to expect.

When the Animus project was only starting out and they had sent him in, you weren’t as involved in this whole ordeal back then as you were now and things between you and Clay had been over for quite a while. Honestly, given what happened, you didn’t even want to get involved so that pushed you away from delving into this mission of his. Your reaction was like when seeing an unpleasant acquaintance in a café – you turned right around and closed the doors behind you, not spending a moment there. You weren’t mad anymore, you were just… Sad, plainly put. You felt a tightening in your chest and an unpleasant acid presence in your throat when seeing him or thinking about him so you just did what you had to to put an end to this – cut him off, turned right away from his direction.

You were emotionally unprepared when you met him. He was intense, always, and he was so vivid and complex and sure that it was a lot for you. That was what drew you in too. It used to be comforting, because he saw right into you and he knew just what to do to reel you in. But it wasn’t like a hunt, he just let you rely on him, allow yourself that relief, and he made you see that you could trust him, he would help you trust him, and he would show you what it meant to be in a relationship, to be – loved and wanted. You were a tough nut to crack, but he told you that he was willing, that he was able, and you wanted just that. It never reached a peak, however. What used to be comforting, turned into the source of worry and anger. You got scared of his confidence? Perhaps. Maybe you were right? You didn’t know. But you began questioning and he wasn’t responding well, he seemed distant and when he actually had to spend less and less time with you because he got seriously involved in the fight against Abstergo, you accused him and you ran. You disappeared before he did, not knowing. You buried yourself in training, earning your way, making a career, entertaining people. Fame and the picture you painted protected you, at least no one would suspect later what you did when you weren’t putting on a show. Really, you were lucky and you even laughed at it, amused by how so in the face of everyone you were, yet also hidden. Perhaps one day it would cause your downfall and you would go down in flames, but it would only be fitting for your romantic nature.

Sometimes you wondered what would’ve happened had you stayed, what could have been… But you would never know. You had your chance to at least send him a message to talk it over, but you wasted it by not acting. And then he was no more. Subject 16, Clay Kaczmarek. On some cozy and lonely nights after coming back from a trip to your home, unpacking your suitcases, looking at all the things you had bought during one of your many travels as (Y/N), as someone normal, someone the masses thought of as an entertainer, who had an image, your thoughts drifted to him, briefly playing with the idea that maybe he was your origin story all along. How tragically comical.

You then began your study of the whole Animus project, backtracking others’s steps and learning all about the machines, the goals, Clay’s sacrifice, Lucy’s betrayal and Desmond’s fateful end. At first it was very emotionally exhausting, but then you went at it with a more surgical approach, distancing yourself, knowing that you had to bear the weight in order to acquire the knowledge. So you dug deeper, deeper, even when sometimes it seemed that there was no more. You’d sneak into Abstergo’s labs to find the currently unused Animus machines and venture into the deep ocean of information stored inside it to see for yourself what Clay and Desmond left behind. It was a difficult task to accomplish, but once understanding the science of the machine as if it was your mother tongue, you unlocked more levels and planes than what you thought was possible, knowing that this was the only place that did not let you leave without a trace and you paid the price, accepting that you could only cover your steps, gritting teeth to continue this for as long as possible so none in the opposition would discover who you were. At this time, you didn’t really have a goal with this, but somehow you just kept going forward, or more like inward. There was a night when you completely missed out on sleep because of your Animus session and had to flee the scene in the morning and it was the most heartbreaking of it all. You found imprints deep inside the Animus which when molded together, showed you the exchanges between Clay and Desmond, like visions, replaying for you as many times as you wanted them to, but without the option to interact. You learned that Clay, at the very end, tried to momentarily cling to something, anything, hoping that maybe he could still come back, somehow. But he couldn’t, he was left trapped inside the machine’s depth, providing Desmond with his way out so he could leave it completely, although reaching his own end soon after in a similar heroic sacrifice. The day after was when you sent a message to Shaun, Rebecca and William, simply saying that you were truly sorry for their loss. A message out of the blue, emotional, irrational, uncontrolled, but it gave you some inner relief. No one comforted you when you mourned Clay, even if late, because no one knew, but at least… At least you could comfort them.

After that you stopped visiting the Animus, only diving into the information you took on memory cards and hacking, in the safety of your own home. But it seemed that you weren’t allowed to settle down. There was always something that caught your attention and you had to look into it. There was always more to discover about what Clay did. Even after you thought you had seen every last trace of him, there was always more. And it wasn’t comforting, because oftentimes it contradicted what you thought you had learned – the Animus deleted the last remains of his conscience, so how was this possible? There was data that suggested the opposite. You were determined not to accept it, not wanting to give yourself or any of the Assassins false hope by contacting them and then having to tell them that it was a false alarm. But you wanted to get to the bottom of this, so as much as you wanted to escape this, you couldn’t so… Back into another Animus you went, diving deeper than ever before. If Clay was still somehow alive in there, you had to find out, not for yourself, but for him. The reason did not matter, the how or why, but the fact did, so you went with a purpose.

You found the island where he and Desmond met and saw the broken remains of the gateway which no longer functioned, the loose black pieces floated around in the air in a lazy manner. You frowned, turning away, taking a good look around yourself for the umpteenth time. It seemed endless, like a void. There were islands in the distance, like the one you were on, but they did not call to you. You took slow, unsure strides forward until the very end of your feet hung slightly over the edge and your body instinctively stopped. You felt an immense force trying to stop you from what you were trying to do then and it was then that you felt the raw hostility of the Animus. It was terrifying to realize that it was trying to hold you back and sabotage the simple act of you looking down. You even panted when you finally managed, as if you were under actual physical restraints. And it dawned on you that this – this you had never experienced before because the thought never even occurred to you. Below you you saw the endless, impenetrable darkness that somehow still seemed to froth. It was alien, it was wrong, it was screaming at you to go back. Perhaps you should’ve, maybe this was to be your final gateway to madness.

- Clay. – you uttered, voice trembling, but still loud, and then you jumped, hood slipping from your head and your body falling into the darkness, tearing at your invisible restraints, penetrating into the matterless mass that wanted to push you – no, throw you back, but you cut right through it.

What was time? What was light? Such concepts did not exist here. You realized that you could see, you could move, but your brain could not comprehend the means, threatening you with splitting your head if you probed at it any further, barely able to comprehend the fact that it just happened. Were you still falling or were you floating or were you standing? There was no answer. You didn’t even know if your eyes were open or not.

- No living being should be here. – a voice spoke, seemingly close to you. You took a deep breath – or did you? – and you tried to get to the source, feeling that if you could just reach out, you could do that and…

- You are alive. – the voice spoke again in your ear and a hand touched – no, something, something felt as if it vibrated against your shoulder, or what was supposed to be that. You then suddenly felt like you were briefly spinning and then a figure, a shape, a body began separating from the darkness before you, not materializing, more like trying to tear itself away from the endlessness. It never fully formed, no colours or matter were really present and it seemed to be constantly in motion as it was trying to gain – regain? – shape, but the more you looked at it, the more it felt like it was looking back at you, until…

- (Y/N)?! – he exclaimed, terrified, and then his form found shape and colour at once. A scream sprang from your throat in response and seemed to echo all around you until being sucked into the void.

You knew. It was him. He was there right before you. Clay. His face was contorted from not knowing how, what, why this was, only knowing that somehow you were there before him.

- Clay. – you whispered his name. – Where… Where are we? – you asked, but immediately realized that you shouldn’t have because as bodiless as you were, you somehow still felt an inexplicable but enormous pain beyond all bearing, somewhere in your head, causing you to bellow like a thousand hounds, all being beaten at once. Clay’s form appeared even closer to you in an instant and he raised his hands to your head, holding your temples, making you feel the same vibrations again, registering as they snuffed out the pain, leaving your head with a dull throbbing which was, compared to the previous feeling, even pleasurable.

- You are alive and therefore you shouldn’t ask such questions, not here, because in here the Animus will tear you apart for it. You shouldn’t even be here! – his voice gradually got angrier, but it was an exhausted kind of anger which only made your heart hurt.

- How do you know? – you whispered, looking into the depths of his eyes from up close. Perhaps, if you had been outside, up there in the world of matter, you could’ve felt his breath on your lips and he yours, on his. But this place was something else.

- I no longer ask nor look for explanations. I don’t think I can, either. Life is the place for that and I have no right or way to be there anymore. But you… - the colours began fading away from him, draining from his face until he was yet again a frothing shape, getting sucked back into the darkness. Terror and pain were stabbing your heart and you were trying to grab at him, in vain. – Go. – he finished simply, and suddenly he was nowhere.

But the vibrating feeling in your head remained, growing in intensity and it felt as if you were snatched up, pulled with inhuman force and at the same time pushed, but in one direction. You felt your back hit the ground of the same island from which you jumped, but then it disappeared from under you and suddenly your eyes snapped open and you woke with a sharp inhale, sitting right up in the Animus. You looked around in fear, but nothing has changed and you were still all alone in the dim room. You hoped you didn’t scream. Your next instinct was to look at your watch then to check the time, noting that no matter how timeless your experience was, here in the outside world you were still good on that front. You palmed your chest over your heart, focusing on your breathing and trying to control yourself and calm down, your other hand pulling your hood over your eyes again, shielding your identity once again. You would delete all footage of this visit again, naturally, but still, it felt good to conceal yourself again while gathering the energy to get up, clean up and leave.

It was around 3 am by the time you got home and locked your door behind yourself. You took off your shoes and trembled your way towards your bathroom, finally able to allow yourself to shake and lose focus, not having to concentrate on stealth. You turned on the light and looked in the mirror, not even flinching at the sight. Thin trails of dry blood ran from your right ear and your nose. Perhaps you had subconsciously licked it from your lips while making your way back, but you couldn’t recall that bit. You concluded that it could only be the result of when you asked your first question from Clay and felt that horrible pain. You sighed, for now content with only hoping that you did not suffer any serious internal physical damage. From then on the rest of the night was a blur – cleaning yourself and then surrendering to a joyless slumber in your bed. But now you knew one thing: Clay’s conscience was still alive. And you were going to bring him back.

The next few days you couldn’t act yet, being snowed under with your current work project, but at least it was good for a rest. But you already began thinking of your next step. In order to bring Clay back, you needed to find him a body, which was no easy task so at first you were completely devastated, not really knowing what your options were, if you even had any. You weren’t just going to rob a morgue for one and steal someone’s son away, you would need someone whom… Well… No one missed or no one knew where to search for. So once again you began snooping around in Abstergo’s database, trying to see if there were any unfortunate imprisoned souls somewhere, stolen from the world, who perhaps were crushed under the organisation’s weight and whose body you could… Maybe… Hopefully… Use for your quest. You figured that if you could get the body and you’d put it in an Animus, linked another to it to create a joined session and went in, you could drag Clay’s conscience back out and he’d find the body and anchor himself in it. You could program the device so that in the right moment it would overload for a snap and give him an electric shock to kick-start the heart. And maybe, just maybe, all that together would be enough to… Bring him back to life. You were no surgeon, no medically versed person but even if you were, you would have strong doubts. This was madness and quite impossible. But with all that happened, Pieces of Eden existing and all that wonder, all that magic, all that danger, you thought that if you didn’t give it a shot, you would be no better than the Templars. You heard him yourself, he wanted to come back. And he was a good Assassin too, he deserved to. So, not for yourself, but for him, you were going to try.

You released a long sigh from your lungs, not knowing you were holding one in. It was a beautiful, warm day and you were currently buried deep in one of Abstergo’s many servers, looking for your unknown target. What you ended up discovering though, you really weren’t prepared for.

„Clay Kaczmarek, former Subject 16 of the Animus Project - REUSED”, the title read on your screen.

- Reused…? What the… How the… What? – you mumbled, shaking your head, blinking erratically. But the text did not change. You gulped and moved your cursor over it, clicking after a moment of hesitation. You immersed yourself in the detailed report, reading everything carefully, even though most of what was there you had already known, it was basically his story written down. But at the end there was an update. Your heart almost skipped a beat. Reused. They recovered his corpse they had previously dumped. Using a Piece of Eden combined with a device – the operation of which you skipped reading about for now – they reversed the process of decay it was naturally going through and were now harnessing it for further genetic memory. They wanted to use his knowledge about the Assassins against them and incorporate the techniques into their own training. The body was now kept in Berlin in another one of their secret labs. Location, condition, everything was there.

Reused.

You spun your chair around and stood up, walking extremely slowly into the kitchen. You opened your fridge and took out a tiny jar of your homemade yogurt, ready to be consumed as a treat, finding the cinnamon as well and sprinkling some of it on it. You stirred it with a spoon, licked that, then poured the whole thing into the sink and ran back to your computer. Your skin felt like it was on fire and your brain was basically frying in its place but you never felt more alive. With this information, you hadn’t another moment to waste and you wanted to act as soon as possible. You didn’t even think it through, you just did what your instincts were telling you to do.

You worked furiously to locate Rebecca and her team and Lady Luck seemed to be on your side still, because you found them in Europe. You contacted them in a message, telling the necessary details about your recent discoveries and your plan. The events then followed each other in a rapid pace. Their response came quickly and you engaged in a serious conversation and by the end of the day you had your and their trip organized and covered to Berlin. The plan was to meet up there and infiltrate the lab, follow your mad speculation of resurrecting him through, steal the Piece of Eden, blow up the lab as a parting gift and get the hell out of there. Simple. Easy. Madness.

You cleaned up the yogurt incident in your kitchen with a pounding head, struggling to believe that all of this was happening. Of course, going through with this would mean revealing your identity to the team and thus, the Assassins, by getting into the Animus – no way they would just stand and wait while you were out cold and not lift the hood from your eyes to see who you were. But this didn’t bother you as much as you expected. You came to the conclusion that it had to happen at one point for whatever reason and that seemed to be now, with this. But you needed the help, this wasn’t something you could do alone and if you succeeded… You did not want to be left alone with Clay, you realized. You did not want to be the one to explain it all to him and then sit through the awkwardness that would surely follow, maybe even have your past brought up. You wanted to hand him back to the Assassins and disappear, returning to your role as the Faceless, allowing them to know you but still keeping your distance, functioning as a ghost to the Templars and as an ally to the Assassins, just doing your own thing, leading your life the same way as before until it came to a close, no matter how violent that may actually turn out to be.

You made sure nothing and nobody would bother you until you conducted this brave venture. And soon enough, the fateful day to meet the others finally came. You arrived to the hotel late in the afternoon and claimed your room key, booked under a fake name. The agreement with the others was that your rooms were to be booked right beside each other and you would meet once you were all settled. You didn’t bring too much and you didn’t bother to really unpack, not needing to. You finished that energy bar you were munching on on your way there and then walked out to the balcony, noting the walls dividing each room. You leaned on the railing and looked out over the city, breathing in. You were somewhat tired, and anxious, but you still wanted to follow this through. Thoughts about what was lying ahead and memories flooded your mind and you allowed them to consume you, taking you through pleasant and unpleasant times, only resurfacing when you heard soft chatter from your right. Leaning a bit further out you looked in that direction, spotting the familiar trio. Nodding to yourself, you returned to your room and then left it with the same drive, stopping at the neighbouring door and knocking. There was a light murmuring inside and some shuffling and then the door opened, revealing a slightly uptight-seeming Shaun Hastings who looked quite surprised.

- May I help you, miss? – he asked.

- I don’t suppose you have an espresso machine in your room, do you? – you asked. By your agreement this was to be your code to help them know it was really you. Wordlessly, he stepped aside to let you in. There was the natural surprise and some questions about if and how you knew Clay but you brushed those aside, stating that you would not talk about the two of you. Your eyes betrayed you and displayed exactly how much sadness was churning inside you. But you all had to keep going, you weren’t there to relax. So you sat down and discussed your approach, every step. Infiltrating the underground lab at night would be easy and you decided that destroying that one level where you were to conduct your experiment would be enough, it would destroy all evidence and throw Abstergo off your possible trail. Deciding on whipping up an electric fire, you have discussed everything and got ready.

From then, it all turned into a crazy dream. You wouldn’t call it a nightmare, but it was quite strange nonetheless. Your heart was definitely not beating as it usually did, the closer you got to your ultimate target. And when you were standing in front of the capsule-like object which housed Clay’s body, you realized that you were terrified, the fright was clawing at your tissues from the inside. But you didn’t fear failure, you were actually prepared for that. You feared success, you feared facing him, even if for a minute until you would have to get going and get out of there. Your heart, after all this time, was not ready. You did not want to analyze what you were feeling nor face it, at all. You forcefully pushed on and helped the others set up the connection between the machine and an Animus in which you were supposed to go. Shaun and Rebecca were absolute geniuses and you experienced a short relief while you marveled at how quickly and seamlessly they familiarized themselves with the strange device, discovering how they could produce that overload in the right moment that was to serve as the defibrillator and how they could remove the Piece of Eden after it was all done – successful or not. Now that Piece of Eden, it was a strange artifact, really. It was made of the same material as the Apple, but it was shaped like… It really reminded you of a traditional Japanese teacup. It was thin, but the „cup” walls weren’t that high so it could barely hold any liquid if used in such a way. It emanated a strange sensation and an unearthly, soft but unsettling sort of light and when you gazed at it for a bit longer, you felt a familiar buzzing inside your head. It was situated behind Clay’s head in the device and with a bit of tinkering it could easily be removed as you could see.

Clay… His body was in excellent condition, the river’s toll taken on it nonexistent. He looked like as if he was only sleeping – he just wasn’t breathing and his heart wasn’t beating. He was as beautiful as ever, you thought with fondness, but you violently tore yourself away from that and turned your back to him, settling in the simplified Animus device beside him. It wasn’t made to be comfortable, you noted, but it was the easiest to transport and it would serve the purpose. Once everthing was ready, the others settled down and you went in.

Snooping outside the regular planes inside was now your forte, you could say, and finding that desolate island was easy. You floated and treaded with purpose and even though you could sense the resistance of the system – trying to push you back from reaching the place where you weren’t logically supposed to be because it was actually trying to protect you, even if aggressively –, you slowly but surely made your way to the edge once again. You peered down into the impenetrable depth and knew that you were attempting the impossible again. How could it be impossible if you had already done it once before? But it was, it really was, because you knew that this time you might not be so lucky and come back. Or you would, but without Clay’s conscience. But whatever awaited you, you did not care, you had to go, you had to jump, you had to cut through, you had to reach, you had to find

- Clay. – you said his name, Clay, Clay, Clay, Clay---

You did not even notice when you began your intrusive descent against and into the womb of hostility, but suddenly you just knew that you were doing it. You couldn’t tell when you arrived, if ever, but you just had to trust your gut that you were, somehow, there – wherever that was. There was silence, but it was a peculiar statement to make because what really was there was the nothingness. You still had to try, somehow, to find him. You had to. He must still be there. But unlike the first time, he did not come. In an instant, you were panicking and you had to mentally pressure yourself to snap out of it and stay focused, to not get lost.

- No living being should be here. – you whispered, just like he did the last time. What were you hoping for by this? You honestly had no idea, you just made an attempt so that maybe, just maybe…

- I am no longer alive. – his voice, exhausted, dismal, called somewhere near you. You tried to turn in his direction, wherever that was.

- Maybe not at the moment. – you said and swallowed a huge lump in your throat. You began hearing the loud beating and throbbing of your own blood in your ears. In that moment, you suddenly knew, just knew that you had to be swift now, there was no room for fooling around. You could hardly make out the frothing shape of a body, the image of a man who once was.

- What do you mean, (Y/N)? – he asked you, and then you lunged forward – you hoped you did, but this place wouldn’t let you be able to tell. Your mind, however, was dead set on executing these actions. You looked in front of you, at the unreal figure and extended your arms, wrapping them around him, not knowing if you were actually feeling him or not, but you prayed to all deities that were and were not that you did.

- You are coming back, Clay, you are coming back with me and you are going to return to your body and you are going to live, you are going to live, you hear me?! – you screamed, voice shaking with the tears that never escaped when you parted those many years ago but threatened you now.

The Animus attacked you then. You were attempting to leave and take something with you that you were not supposed to and the system didn’t want you to do that. You felt winds of cold and dark stab and tear at you, attempting to pull you apart, but in response you just dug your nail into the mass of Clay’s conscience you were enveloping. Invisible and unreal electrical charges shot through you, but you just pushed closer, focusing on only one thought: returning to the world. Everything was loud and silent, you felt sensations that were impossible to describe and nothing at all, extremities held you that could not be and you could not tell what actually was and what was not. You could only hope that you were actually moving, somehow escaping, but you also felt lost and you had no way of telling.

In the room, Rebecca, Shaun and William were watching over the two of you. Five minutes had passed, ten, fifteen, twenty… Frustrated sighs left each throat, one after the other. They felt like it was all in vain and they should try to pull you out before you were lost.

But then your vital signs changed abruptly. Your heart was beating twice the speed of what was natural and acceptable in your tense state, your blood pressure was at the same time extremely low and your fingers were twitching, although the rest of your body wasn’t jerking. It was alarming and they all jumped to their feet, but before they could forcefully end the session, the Piece of Eden activated itself as well, the alien light that was softly coming from it quadrupled in power and filled the whole room, coating everything, causing the glass of Clay’s case to crack an then completely shatter, covering him in the softest layer of glass shards – all so quickly that they barely had enough time to register it. But it was obvious that they had to act now. They launched the overload and Clay’s body convulsed from the shock, continuing to twitch wildly, the alien glow making it seem like a lucid dream.

Then, with no warning, you sat up, sucking in air as if you were a second away from drowning and this was your last and unexpected chance to save yourself from suffocating. At the exact same moment, Clay’s body stopped twitching and he himself also raised into a sitting position in one swift movement. Just as you both raised and your eyes were trying to refocus and regain sense, the Piece of Eden’s light died down. For a few seconds you were debating whether you were dreaming, dead, or if this was real and you were back out, alive. You bit the insides of your cheeks and when you felt the familiar unpleasantness, you nodded, accepting the fact that you were alive. You slowly, timidly, turned your head in the direction of the other device to see whatever you had to see there. As if on cue, mirroring your movement not a millisecond late, Clay also turned his head and then your gazes met. Time really felt like it had stopped then, only the beating of your hearts was heard, a thousand tiny needles picking at you inside your veins. You were in a trance, but you desperately wanted to break out, so you began fighting yourself, mentally beating yourself, all in the matter of seconds, to make yourself snap out of it and…

- Come on, let’s pack up. Shaun, help Clay up and William… - you heard Rebecca speak and that was your salvation. You sprung to your feet and frantically pulled your hood over your head. From then on it was another crazy blur, but one thing you could constantly feel – Clay’s eyes upon you. You thanked the fact that he was still too weak to speak to you – or whatever the reason was, really, you were just glad as you were already at the end of what you were able to handle without shutting down. You gathered your tools, Shaun safely removed and wrapped up the Piece of Eden to take it away for further discovery, all footages of your presence were erased and you successfully started up the fire, making sure that it would destroy everything behind you and cover your escape. Shaun and Rebecca took Clay with them in the van while you and Miles senior took a different route, the five of you meeting once again back at the hotel, careful about your re-entry, not to cause a stir and seem suspicious.

You told Mr. Miles to go forward and you went to your own room first. Since you hadn’t unpacked, you only had to wash up and fix your attire and you were ready to leave. You grabbed your bag and entered the other room from the balcony. You walked over to the team, your breathing measured. Clay was sitting on the bed, seemingly fine and Shaun and William were explaining the details of the time leading up to this day to him. When they noticed you, Rebecca greeted you with a tired but warm smile and stood to step towards you but stopped, seeing your bag hanging on your shoulder.

- Don’t. Please. I just want to be short about it now. – you got the start of any protest, taking in one shaky breath before continuing, straightening your posture. - So, everything is as we discussed, you have your contacts here and disappearing once you are ready should be easy. I hope I have provided you with enough financial support. Please, treat yourselves well with however much is left – I hope it’s a lot, I really didn’t play it shmuck. Yeah, all that and… Take care, see you around sometime. Let’s continue to stick it to the Templars. – you finished, striding to the door with only one intention – to leave.

- (Y/N). – Clay called out to you with such a tender voice that you almost choked on your own breath and that halted your hurried movements. It was the first time in years that you heard his actual living voice and it nearly made you collapse, they could see your legs bump together, making you stumble.

- I beg of you! – you struggled out with trembling lips and wildly shook your head, not looking back. – Guys, I am really not proud of what I am about to do and I will forever try to atone for it, but… This is all I can bear now. I must return to what I was. You know who I am now anyway. I… I cannot do this, Clay. – you breathed out the last sentence and then dashed towards the door like a wild animal escaping confinement.

And with that, you were gone.

You then began your longest hitchhiking of your life and made it across the border. That much caution was excessive, but you needed the therapeutic effect it held. Sleeping in cheap motels, not speaking to anyone besides giving the directions and saying a polite thank you when paying for your food. You had time to start burying this whole experience in yourself and build your walls right back up, protecting your heart, mind and soul.

After the last bit of traveling, you resumed your life back home under your real name, continued working and took some time off from being the Faceless once you have made sure that Clay, Rebecca, Shaun and William were all fine as well, but without contacting them of course. After a month of this, you knew though that you were prepared to open up that part of your life again. You caught up with what was happening at Abstergo and happily noted that they still, even after a bloody month, had no clue what the hell happened in Berlin. It was a serious blow to them which threw them back a great deal.

Life was relatively normal for you and even though you were prepared to be bombarded by the Assassins, in thought you mutely thanked the guys for – you guessed – spreading the message that you preferred to continue operating as an ally, solo. Wherever you went, you knew that when a stare was too long and too strange, it was from these hidden ones, but you were thankful for them respecting your silent wishes. You had your hands deliciously full, so to say, because you were never bored, you always found something to deal with, a way to stir up some trouble for the Templars.

Your heart returned to its dormant state that was oh so familiar from the previous years and you thought that it would now stay that way forever. But on a cold, autumn day, you felt your breath stolen from you once again. Of course, you couldn’t expect to never see him again, but not like this… You were sitting at a table in front of a café, almost empty paper cup of melange in hand and book in the other when a figure took the seat next to you.

- Hi. – a curious male voice greeted you and you looked up at him, blood draining from your face then. It was Clay, Clay Kaczmarek, sitting right there beside you, looking as alive as ever, looking… Looking beautiful, healthy, everything he deserved to be, a brown leather jacket over a hoodie with a pair of dark jeans and boots keeping him warm and simply stylish. His eyes were stormy, however, but you didn’t stop to wonder about the reason behind that.

- Is it something concerning Abstergo? – you whispered after a few moments of trying to compose yourself. You saw him shake his head.

- No, nothing of the sort. I wanted to talk to you about… - he began, but you dropped your coffee and book after his first word. You ran, once again, forgetting your book there, only caring about escaping him. You did everything, tot he best of your abilities, to lose him, arriving home quite a while later. Your legs gave out once you closed the door behind yourself and you fell to the floor. You were breathing heavily, loudly, fighting for every inhale, trying not to pass out. It took quite a while for you to calm down and then you shakily took off your shoes, still lying on the floor. You trembled, almost collapsing when trying to stand up, but with enough patience and determination you managed to stay up and get out of your coat, now just staying in your pants and cozy turtleneck. You took a few steps towards the kitchen when you heard the soft creaking noise of your door as it opened and then closed and your keys were turned in the lock. You were frozen in your spot, one arm raised halfway in front of you as you wanted to thread your fingers through your hair but stopped before you could due to these sudden noises. You couldn’t move so you just waited. A few steps and then the intruder was right behind you. A hand slowly rested on your shoulder – strange, it wasn’t menacing at all and it was oddly familiar.

- (Y/N), please take deep breaths. I do not want you to panic. I locked the door just to be safe, but not to trap you. You can still send me away if you wish. But if you don’t, I will keep my distance, but please, give us a moment to sit down so I can talk to you. And just… Just listen, please. That is all I ask of you. – Clay spoke slowly, clearly, careful not to startle you even further or cause you to react in a way that you would harm yourself. You followed his request and consciously took deep breaths, keeping a steady rhythm. You then slowly moved away from his touch and walked into the kitchen, sitting on the first chair beside the table you saw. Clay, after quickly getting rid of his shoes to be polite, followed you and carefully took a seat in front of you on another chair, keeping a respectful distance between the two of you.

- Alright, I’ll… I’ll listen. – you mumbled, chancing a quick glance into his eyes but feeling a sharp pain in your heart so you immediately averted your gaze. There was no escaping now, it was going to happen.

- So… - Clay began, trying to choose his words carefully. – I… Won’t ask why you did it, but I… I still want to thank you. – He hummed, scanning your face, your form for any sort of reaction. – Yeah. And I… Actually, you know, I am just so damn thrilled because even though I still remember everything, the visions no longer haunt me and I haven’t slept better than since you brought me back. – his sudden enthusiasm seemed to die down here and he looked down at his hands. – Although something’s still missing and… Damn it, (Y/N), I want to talk about you and me, pick up the problem from where we left off, you know? – he confessed, looking right at you again.

And that’s when it happened.

- I ca-, I-hi-I, I ca-, I can’t! – you struggled to spit it out through a series of wild, tearful hiccups, feeling a sudden shortage of breath. The barrier finally broke and the tears you forced down your throat all those years ago after running away from him, in addition to all the frustration and exhausted pain you gathered since then in connection to him, now finally escaped your prison. You wept, hollering in pain as your suffering felt too much to bear and there was no other way for it all to escape. It felt like you were going to explode if you tried to keep it in any longer. Your body hunched forward, your forehead on your knees, your hands clinging to the sides of your thighs, surely bruising your own skin under the pants. Every nerve in your brain and every cell of your body was on fire, was hurting, and you had nowhere to run from this feeling. The tears kept coming like a monsoon’s downpour, completely soaking your face and your clothes. Clay was in fact afraid of such a heavy reaction from you, but he didn’t expect this volume. He debated whether touching you in this state would make it even worse for you but when he saw you slipping towards the floor from your chair, he dropped to his knees and caught you, locking you in his arms. You barely even registered, but you wanted to fight him, to escape his hold. This pointless struggle caused your weeping to increase and you had serious trouble breathing now, threatening you with passing out if you couldn’t calm down.

- (Y/N), listen to me! Focus on my voice! – he said loudly and sternly, hoping to drag you back from your helpless frenzy. – You must reign this in! Step by step, okay? But you must, you have to calm down, for your own sake! – he released a frustrated sigh, his defined brows knitting in the moment of desperation. – Please, I do not want you to hurt yourself even more!

He held your body even tighter to himself, elbows pressing your arms to your sides as his hands he then paced on your temples, making you angle your head so he could get a good look at your face. It was a mess of tears and some mascara, a troubled land in the midst of a war.

- Breathe with me now. Just come back. I am here. Find me, (Y/N). – he attempted to bring you back again. You had your eyes shut tightly and sounds of struggle and hurt were still spilling from you the same way as your tears were, but at least, slowly, you were regaining control over your breathing and as heavy as it was, you were no longer in danger of passing out from the lack of air. Clay held you through it and continued murmuring soft and sound phrases to you, helping you find your anchor back in reality. He was devastated that he could not prevent this, but at least calmness born out of weariness was still better than more turmoil, he thought.

Slowly, you rain out of tears and when you did, your first real thought appeared again – you wondered if that was even possible, but it seemed so. You turned your head, facing away from him and, as if on cue, he stood with you, helping you sit back on your chair. He walked over to the sink and you heard the water running, still not looking in that direction. Soon he was back in front of you, gently dabbing your face with a wet cloth, cleaning as well as refreshing it. You flinched at the first touch but then relaxed, the gentle treatment actually making you feel better. When he was done, he handed you a glass of water and waited for you to drink it all before taking it and the cloth back to the sink.

- I bet you have your answers now, whatever your questions were. – you said dryly. Clay looked at you with a confused expression but you still refused to meet his gaze.

- What do you mean?

- I’m embarrassed, Clay! Just look at what just went down. I’m practically mad so whatever you wanted, I’m sure you don’t want it now. – you sighed in frustration.

- Oh, for fuck’s sake, (Y/N), you should’ve seen me when the bleeding effect got worse and I was acting under the effect. That was madness and fucking ugly. Now this… - he sat down in his chair in front of you again. – This is all me and this is ugly, but not for the reason you think. – his voice softened by the end and he leaned closer to you.

- I want to sit back on the floor though. – you said flatly, already sliding back down to the kitchen tiles. This small act of yours made Clay smile genuinely, it was so undeniably cute even in such a problematic situation as the one you were in at the moment. But he loved your little quirk nonetheless.

- You always liked that. – he noted, joining you, one knee almost up to his chest and his other leg stretched out.

- Yeah.

- I remember it well.

- Aha…

- You often behaved like a cat. This, too, made me think of that.

- I guess.

- It’s cute. – he said, eyes searching your face. You didn’t respond with words, but you folded your hands in your lap. He moved his into your field of vision, aimed at the floor, showing you his palms as a sign that he had no vile intent. When you didn’t retreat, he closed the distance and placed his hands on top of yours. – So… Let me talk to you? – he tilted his head and your bottom lip twitched, but you nodded. – Okay. – he took a deep breath. – I just realized that I probably fucked this up greatly but… I know you probably don’t want to say too much yourself and I did want to let you rest but I do have questions… But anyway. – he chuckled awkwardly, shaking his head. It was a cute gesture and you looked up at him shyly, trying your hardest not to look away again when he locked his eyes with yours.

Whatever he was going to say, ask, you wanted not only to hear but also see that he was honest in it. You often forgot to blink when you were doing this, when you were so deliberately looking for this proof and he remembered that, noticing how your pupils changed in size, registering all your tiniest signs and understanding their meaning.

- I started doubting you. – you suddenly said before he could speak up, surprising both him and yourself. – You were always so confident, so sure, you had everything in you and you were the whole goddamn package and more – did you even realize that? – your lips trembled momentarily, but he stayed silent, wanting to hear you finish this, knowing how important it was. – You were – you are – handsome, smart, strong, but you also had a personality and when I learned that you even knew what suffering meant, how difficult it was to… To rise above a messed-up family background, I felt more connected to you than ever. To know that you would understand me changed everything! And you even said it when I voiced my concerns, you said that it was – that it was okay, you would help me see that and get through and over it and… And I wanted that, I thought that finally, finally someone… But, but then you… - your hands stiffened under his. – You began becoming distant and… And I wondered – he has been through hell and he came out victorious, why the hell would he ever want to do it again with me, suffer through the same by being with me? He didn’t need that trouble, did he? So I… I couldn’t understand anymore why you would ever… And you were even behaving differently so I… I just left because I… I didn’t want to be left. And even if your change in behaviour was caused by your blossoming involvement with the Assassins, I… Even today with a name to myself and success carved by my own hands, I would do the same. Because… Why would you ever… You need someone who’s not loaded with a problematic background and I don’t want to be… Left… But making it work with me is way too crazy so… - you shrugged, losing your energy and not knowing how to finish it so you just stopped. He’d think whatever he wanted to. Sure, you were horrible for saying all of this. But at least he got his explanation he could never ask for. Surely that was the only thing he came for. And even if now he thought you were a real bastard for thinking so horribly of him, it would be… Just okay. You were drained, ready to just accept it.

- So you lost your faith in me? – Clay asked carefully, his voice not giving away anything.

- Sort of, I guess… – you nodded, finally blinking and having to keep your eyes closed for a good minute as they watered painfully. – It was nice to toy with the idea, but you and me together wouldn’t be a heaven-made match, I think. And even if I’ve grown, I’m still the girl with trust issues and a strangely rising and lowering self-confidence inside. And even if I understand the lives we live now and I’d know you were coming and going because of it, the same with I, I just… I couldn’t do it. I’d run, because I’ve always did and… I’m a distrustful coward and I cannot expect you to fix that. Because you shouldn’t. That’s my job and probably a certified and trained therapist’s.

- You’re right about some things but you’re astonishingly wrong about others, (Y/N). – he said, laughing quietly.

- What…? – you tilted your head.

- Sure it’s not my job to fix everything for you but when we met, I didn’t say what I did just to get into your pants. I knew what I was in for, just as always, like with Abstergo. – he spoke clearly and unwaveringly, keeping you focused and unable to look away from him. – And I was ready to be your support, your crutches if you will. Even your home therapist if you wanted. I was willing to cut myself if it meant I could patch you up. Because I knew that you were someone who wouldn’t keep it one-sided. You were always giving and fair so I was never afraid of getting too deep. I wanted to go there. So when I said trust me, let me, allow me – I meant it all. All of it, (Y/N). – he sneakily slipped his hands around yours, fingers intertwined, and gave them a firm squeeze. – Healthy or not, I don’t give one single shit. I never did, I don’t. Because I knew, I know, that the reward was you and me, us. We’re definitely not a heaven-made match but don’t you remember? I’m a hell-hound. – he winked at you, bringing back old memories which you couldn’t fight and you… You blushed furiously, cheeks so red that he had a hard time resisting the urge to kiss them endlessly right then and there. He smirked, but it was not predatory nor scary in any way, it was hopefully confident even if he knew that he was still walking a tightrope with all of this. – Life’s a piece of shit when you look at it… - he half-sang that one line and it made you laugh, so suddenly and freely that it felt like the first deep inhale of fresh air after leaving a smoke-filled house. The sound was beautiful to Clay’s ears and he raised your hands to his lips, kissing each before noticing your gasp ending the laughter. – It really is, but there are some good things in it. We still haven’t lost the big fight, we still have our free will, coffee smells good, tigers and lions are just as silly as tiny housecats but like equipped with murder mittens, you are one kick-ass woman and now that I have another chance, no way in this damn world I’m wasting it. – he pulled you closer to him and you let him. – Can I say something? – he asked and it didn’t really seem to make sense, but you wanted to understand so you nodded, though frowning slightly.

- Sure.

- I’ll tell you what I think you should do. What I want you to do. – he began. – But you have your options, I just want you to trust me on this. I know that it will work if you give it another go.

You breathed in sharply.

- I won’t disappear again, not without you. I’m changing the game because I’m fed up after how it went down last time. We either go together or we go nowhere at all. I want you back with me and I want you to take me back, (Y/N). I will face whatever insecurities stir up some trouble for us and I will weed out every last one of them. You’ll be so sure of everything that you won’t ever feel that horrible pain here… - he released one of your hands to touch the side of your head gently - … or here. – his touch now rested over your heart for an extended moment before retreating but still hovering in front of you. – Just like I said all those years ago, I’m still standing by it today. I don’t care if it takes years, I’m willing and able to do it all. So you should just… Just dive right in. Trust me on this. You’ll see that I’m right, because I have it in me and you have it in you too and… If we just put that together, you’ll be in the best love you could ever find. I bet you couldn’t even write up such a story where it would surpass this.

- Clay. – you breathed his name.

- Nobody else could ever make me feel this weak by saying my name… - he admitted with a smile, the hint of shyness in it, grabbing your chin with his free hand, the other still holding yours. – I want to write my story, I want to tell a different tale and I want you to be and stay in it. I want… - his own composure was breaking now and he just started listing everything that he so missed. – I want you to say I’m yours and I want to say the same, and that you are mine, and I want to punch every bastard who looks at you wrong. And then I want you to scold me for it but feel it in your embrace afterwards that you love it when I get possessive. Then I want to talk it out and agree that I don’t have to go that far, only in extreme cases. I want to go on missions with you and kiss the damn breath out of you after you shoot a bad guy in the head because I’m so amazed and proud and I bet you are incredibly sexy when you do that. – his hands were suddenly all over your arms, rubbing them up and down and groping with growing fever, but still restrained from venturing to the rest of your body. – And I want to argue with you and then fix things because I know we can. And I want to watch you work and be your greatest fan. And I bet we’d almost get kicked out of a cinema because we’d laugh at the most inappropriate moments again during a horror movie. And I want to go to bed with you, I want to watch you shower and see you almost slip when you notice me so I can catch you and keep you safe and unharmed, I want to make a show of me undressing for you, and I want to be anything and everything you want me to be because you already are for me and I want you to know that if you just take that leap of faith… With me… We’d love each other so much that it would be so fucking good… - his hands stopped at your shoulders, gripping you there. Now, it seemed, it was his turn to cry. His sigh was so heavy, it held the weight of a whole world and his tears were even hot, matching his heated skin.

You couldn’t really speak while he talked. It was a lot to take in. But the more he went on, the more you felt different… Better. Hope somehow opened its eyes inside you and Clay’s momentum took you with him and soon you were drinking in his words like a desert’s wanderer the first source of water after the longest walk. And now that he was done, just watching you with silent tears and still holding you, you made your choice.

- Can I call you mine? – you asked timidly. His reaction was everything. He threw his head back in glorious, liberated, joyful laughter and pulled you into his arms. He leaned back against one of the table’s sturdy legs, keeping you tight against him.

- Yes, baby, I’m all yours and only yours and you can announce it to the whole world.

You were still unsure so only after he gave you his answer did you sneak your own arms around his waist as well. – Mine. – you stated, lips slowly stretching into a genuine, loving smile.

- Tell me if I’m wrong but… Mine, so mine that you’re nobody else’s. – Clay said, rubbing slow circles on your back and waist. You just nodded, confirming his claim. – I love you, (Y/N). – he confessed, nudging you so you would look up at him again.

- I—

- No rushing, babe, no need. We’re together now. – he cut you off.

- Never interrupt your woman, you uncultured possum. – you teased him, earning yourself a grin from him, which you easily mirrored.

- A’ight, ma’am.

- I love you too, Clay. – you finished, and in that moment, you felt better than ever.

- And now I’m going to kiss the life back into you because that’s what you get for loving me. I just need to do this in a more… - he suddenly stood, gathering you in his arms and making you wrap your legs around his waist - … comfortable setting, there we go. You’re really in for it now. – he said in that darling rascal of a tone of his, drawing a bubbly, easy laughter from you as you held onto him.

He took you through your house, doing an unintentional, quick discovery until he found your bedroom and after turning the lights on, he gently but playfully threw you on the bed, climbing in with and then over you.

- I bet your couch is nice too but I figured this would be much better for it. And then a nap, which we both undoubtedly need. And whatever else you agree on. – he winked down at you, caressing your cheek and your throat with unmatched tenderness. – If, of course, you don’t mind me staying over…?

- Please. – you said, wrapping him in a firm hug, keeping him close, enjoying his weight on you. It was reassuring, it spoke of comfort and safety and uninterrupted time without words.

- Good. Now… Let’s get this eternal love going. – he announced and his lips finally crashed down on yours.

That night, after you fell asleep in each other’s arms, you were still together even in your dreams. You met on the same unearthly plane of minds and knew that this time… This time it would stay this way.

#ac #Assassin's Creed #ClayDay #ClayDay19 #Clay Kaczmarek #fanfiction #my writing #Clay Kaczmarek x reader #ass-sass-sin-o #marshmallow--3

34 notes · View notes