The Right Side

Remembering

"You can't just yell out like that," Charles says, still holding Clarke's arm as he pulls her to where they had tied up their horse. "Do you know how bad it'd be for us if they realized we were Templars?"

"They aren't Assassins, why would it matter if they knew what we were? He killed-"

"I know damn well who he killed!" The man turns to face her, glaring at her. "I've known him much longer than you have, so don't think I just forgot about him!"

"Well maybe if you weren't such a cold-hearted prick, people would think you actually-" the blonde was cut off, a hand coming across her cheek with a loud smack.

The two look at eachother, Clarke having wide blue eyes while Charles slowly put together what he's done. He swore not to let her get hurt, but he hurt her himself.

"Clarke I... oh god, I didn't mean to-" he stepped closer to her, but she pushed him away from her.

"Don't touch me!" She yelled at him, holding her cheek. Not only did it hurt, but she remembered this happening before. It was in small fragments, but she got memories. She remembered the little boy that had died, but he was alive in these memories. There was someone else there, he was trying to hurt them. But then came...

Achilles. She remembered Achilles.

A pit formed in Clarke's stomach, making her turn away from her fellow Templar. "Don't follow me. Please."

"Clarke I didn't mean to-"

"Clarke!" Rang Connor's voice, exiting the large building. He looks between the two, able to piece together that something bad had happened. "Clarke I-"

"Take me to Achilles," she said quietly, surprising him. "I need to speak with him."

"You can't go with him!" Charles said, taking another step forward, but Connor stops him.

"I'll bring her back safe, I promise."

The man goes silent, glaring at the Native as he watches them walk away. Haytham was going to be pissed.

~~~~~~~~~~

"So you don't remember?" Achilles says slowly, standing in front of Clarke who has taken a seat on an old couch. She nods in response to his question, making him grab a wooden chair. "I suppose you deserve to know everything, then. I feared this day would come." The old man looked over, seeing Connor in the doorway. "You should hear this, too. You two need to help eachother."

The native walks slowly to the couch, sitting on the far side of it. He knew Clarke was angry with him, and he wasn't wanting to push his limits.

"You came to me 15 years ago, when you were 10. Your father was a slave and your mother had died of disease. You brought your brother, Carver. He was only three.

I raised you two as though you were my own, your father being a well known man in the Creed. Haytham knew him," Achilles looked at Connor.

"Not thay they were friends. Adéwalé, first mate to Edward Kenway. Haytham's father and Connor's grandfather. He was an old man, and not your birthfather.

When he found your mother and inevitabley fell in love, he took you two as his own. After being freed from slavery, he stayed on the seas before retiring with us. But he wasn't close with you or your brother like I was. So he let me keep you two.

But people began to find out about the children within the Creed and decided to take use you two as leverage. The Templars kidnapped you more times than I can count, though normally left your brother out of it. This went on and on until you were about 15. At that point, men began to have interest in you. Which became a problem for us.

Now, I'm only saying this so you know what the Templars have done to you. While you were with them, they did hurt you. That William Johnson fellow enjoyed doing so, as I recall. As did Charles Lee."

Clarke's face had slowly grown pale throughout the story, glad to know she had a family, but her stomach did a flip when she heard Charles and Williams names.

"I remember," she said quietly. "I remember Charles. And William. But I don't know-"

"This is all very hard to hear, I know. From what I know of, Haytham never even knew about this. Which is why I didn't come to help you sooner." Achilles reached forward, putting a hand on Clarke's knee. "You can finush the rest, can't you?"

The woman nodded slowly, swallowing hard. "The Templars attacked. Carver... didn't make it. Charles got to him before I did," she felt tears pool in her eyes, hands balling into fists in her lap. "And I couldn't find anyone. I couldn't find you or... there was some else but-"

"Shay," Achilles finished for her. "When you were very very young, you knew him. You always hoped he'd come back."

The girl nodded, eyebrows knitting together. "I was scared. I didn't know what to do and..." she choked back tears, covering her face with her hands. When Connor went to comfort her, Achilles made him stop.

"Where did you go, Clarke? Why didn't you come back? We were looking for you."

"I-I was... on the streets for a week... I think. And... I met this guy. Jack, I think. I stayed with him."

"Do you know Jack is now?"

"Prison."

"Why?"

Clarke swallowed hard, hands moving to her hair as she kept her head down. Her cheeks were red and wet, eyes starting to become puffy. She was visibly shaking, remembering everything that had happened. It was hard on her, Connor could tell. All he wanted to do was help, but he didn't know how.

"Clarke?" Achilles asks, making her look up at him. "Why is he in prison?"

"I don't... I don't know. I only remember him, nothing else."

The man paused, this being a rough subject for him. "He was put there for kidnapping a 15 year old girl selling her."

"Selling?" Confusion went through Clarke's face. "What do you mean?"

"My dear girl," his voice was straining. "Jack hurt you, and sold your body one night at a time. He is no doubt the reason you don't remember anything. Haytham saved you when he found you, and I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner."