Assassin's Creed: Destiny of Souls

Chapter 17

As they approached the van, Aiden gave Claire a sidelong look, a hint of a smirk on his face. "William sends his regards," he said, voice low and slightly amused. "He was able to get us an upgrade from what we usually get. He's... glad to hear you're alive."

Claire managed a tired smile, taking in the sleek, spacious vehicle parked discreetly at the edge of the lot. It was a far cry from the rough, cramped transports she'd grown accustomed to, and the idea that William Miles had personally arranged this sent a strange warmth through her, one she hadn't felt in years. She glanced up at Aiden, who was watching her with a mixture of relief and quiet pride.

They climbed inside, and the van's interior was like stepping into a world of calm after the chaos. Soft, quilted leather seats stretched along the cabin, with recliners for each passenger and even a comfortable lounge area in the back. The lighting was gentle, creating an ambiance that felt both relaxing and secure, a stark contrast to the sterile harshness of the Abstergo facility.

Paul slipped behind the wheel, his calm presence filling the space as he settled in, and Moussa took the passenger seat beside him, already adjusting the seat and making sure they had everything they'd need for the long drive ahead. Callum and Lin took the reclining seats directly behind the driver and passenger seats, sinking into the comfort, their exhaustion showing as they finally let down their guard.

In the back of the van, a cozy lounge area with soft couches awaited them. Aiden guided Claire over to one of the couches, his arm wrapped firmly around her shoulders, as if he still couldn't quite believe she was there with him. He helped her sit down, but the toll of everything—the running, the fighting, the escape itself—was catching up to her faster than she'd anticipated. The tremors in her hands were relentless, each pulse of pain a reminder of the years in the Animus.

Without a word, Aiden sank onto the couch beside her, gently easing her to lie down with her head in his lap. His touch was steady, grounding, and she let herself sink into the familiarity of it, feeling a small piece of tension ease as she allowed herself to rest. His hand rested on her shoulder, a silent reassurance, while his other hand absentmindedly traced circles along her arm, soothing her in a way words couldn't.

"Try to sleep," he murmured, voice soft and full of warmth, almost a whisper meant only for her.

She managed a faint smile, though her eyelids were already growing heavy. "Not sure I could even if I tried," she admitted, though the warmth of his touch and the gentle hum of the van were beginning to pull her into a drowsy lull. Her body ached in a way that sleep couldn't fully heal, but here, in this strange pocket of peace, she allowed herself to sink into the comfort of Aiden's presence. His hand brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his fingers lingering as he watched her, his gaze both protective and full of a relief that ran as deep as hers.

As Claire lay in the back of the escape van, nestled against Aiden with her head resting in his lap, a swirl of conflicting emotions pulsed through her. The adrenaline from their escape was fading, leaving her acutely aware of the pain and exhaustion that had settled deep into her bones, like an ache that would never go away. Every throb, every tremor reminded her of the years she'd spent enduring Abstergo's torture, the physical and emotional toll they'd exacted from her body and spirit. Her muscles felt heavy, weak, and her vision was tinged with the faint blurriness that often followed the strain of too much activity too soon. It was like her body was caught between numbness and raw pain, refusing to let her forget even a moment of what she'd been through.

Laying there, she struggled to let herself believe that she was truly free. The familiar thrum of wheels on the road was almost hypnotic, and the cushioned seat beneath her felt both foreign and comforting—a far cry from the hard, clinical surfaces she'd grown used to in her cell. Part of her wanted to sink into the relief of safety, to close her eyes and let the exhaustion pull her into oblivion, but the other part of her remained tense, guarded. Her mind raced with thoughts of the unknowns: of what Abstergo might do in retaliation, of the long journey still ahead, and of the damage the Animus had done that she might never be able to undo.