The Right Side

Fire and Thank You

All three were knocked to the ground, the fire rapidly spreading around them. The heat was already nearly unbearable, it spreading like a wildfire. The flames touched the ceiling in no time, covering the walls.

"We need to get out of here!" Connor says, heading for a small ramp that fallen wood has made.

"You don't say," Haytham mutters as he pulls Clarke close. He makes sure she is in front of him, eyes on her as they go. When they made it up, they are able to run across the upper level of the brewery. Connor leads them onto the beams, the blonde visibly hesitating.

"I've got you," the Grand Master reassures, a handoff her back to lead her across. He's patient with her, knowing her balance isn't the best. Connor is far ahead of them, though stops when he leaps off the beams and to a platform. Turning, he holds his arms out for Clarke.

"Come on, jump!"

Biting the inside of her lip, the girl nods and leaps across the large gap and grabs onto him. She teeters close to the edge, the native quickly pulling her close. They move out of the way, Haytham soon joining them.

And explosion goes off behind them, sending them forward as they are knocked to the ground. The heat is growing steadily, and it is becoming harder to breathe by the minute.

"Up here!" Connor calls, Clarke looking up to see him climbing towards a large hole in the roof. Easier said than done, in these conditions.

The girl coughs, closing her eyes when a large cloud a smoke heads her way. Her eyes water, and she feels someone close to her. Haytham has a hand hovering in front of her eyes, small cracks allowing her to see.

"Can you make it?" He asks, bringing her towards a wall for her to climb up. The girl nods, taking in as large of a breath as she can before stepping forward and reaching out. With all her strength, the small girl pulls herself up the hot wooden planks and towards Connor. He extends a hand to her, leaning down to take ahold of her forearm and haul her up. Luckily, the Grand Master isn't far behind.

Though making it to the top, they're greeted with two men with guns pointed at them. They don't have time to fire, the boards under them becoming week and crumbling, sending them into the fire.

Clarke coughs loudly from the ash it brought up, waving a hand in front of her face. Her blue eyes move to find Haytham, seeing him hanging onto a ledge and hanging over where the other men had fallen. "Haytham!" She calls, catching the native's attention.

He could've let his father die. He could've let them both die. Why didn't he? There was something in Clarke's voice, how she strained it to be loud enough for anyone to hear, how it was laced with worry. The blonde knew she couldn't do anything to help the one she loved, she wasn't strong enough. Connor knew that feeling. And he knew he wasn't healed yet, so he couldn't leave her that way.

With a small grunt, he pulled Haytham up to safety, the three of them breathing in as much air as their lungs could hold. While they thought they were safe, it was clear they simply made it to the attic. It didn't take long for the Grand Master to move to a door, attempting to open it.

"It's stuck. Perhaps we could find something to pry it open with..." he glances over, seeing Clarke at his side. Her face is covered in black soot, hair filled with ash and her clothes in embers. No doubt he looked the same. Before he can speak, she does.

"Connor?" Her eyes are not on her lover. "What are you doing?" The native has gone to the other side of the room, looking as though he is to run at them. "Oh, no. There's no telling of what's on the other si-" he sprints at the two, arms linking around them as he launches the three of them through the weakened wooden door. Within seconds, they're in cold water.

It doesn't take long for Haytham and Connor to come up, the native seeming unfazed. "We do now," he says.

"You moron!" Clarke shouts, clutching to a wooden poll that's stood in the water. She's shaking, her blonde hair sticking to her face and her clothes becoming skin tight. The water isn't too cold to the men, though she seems quite affected.

"I... I don't understand." Connor knit his eyebrows together. "We had to get out and..."

"It's not you, Connor," Haytham swims over to the girl slowly, eyes looking over her stiff body. "You've not done anything wrong, it's simply the female body. Had I don't that she would've hit me, she's going easy on you."

"What does her being a female have to do with it?"

The Grand Master merely chuckles. "Everything, actually. Come, Clarke. No doubt you're in pain," he puts and arm around her, easing her off the pole and bringing her to the dock to push her up. She lays on her back, hands flat against the wood as she attempts to catch her breath. "Perhaps another time, I will explain."

Connor stands next to the two, watching Clarke control her breathing as she closes her eyes. What on earth could be going on?

"Church had at least a day on us," the Grand Master speaks. "We must move quickly if we hope to catch him."

"I have a ship we can use. Should we head for the pier? Do you need time?"

"I'm fine," Clarke says as she lets out a small breath. "I'm wet, freezing and bleeding but - I'm fine. Thank you for getting us out, Connor."

The native hesitates, but nods. "Of course." He watches as his father helps the girl up, eyes scanning her body for wounds in attempt to see where she was bleeding from. Due to her dark clothes and wet body, he couldn't tell. With a silent motion, he led them to the pier where the Aquila stays docked.

Luckily, it's a quick walk. They were already by the waterfront so it didn't take long. The ship was quite beautiful, Clarke had to admit. Though she remembered Adéwale telling her of a ship called the Jackdaw when she was very little, and that ship had to be much prettier than this.

"You should sleep," Connor suggests to the Templars. "There is a cabin with a bed you can stay in, find some clothes to sleep in and allow your uniforms to dry."

"I'll most likely do that," Clarke admits. The only reason that made sense for her thanking him was that he saved Haytham. And if that earned her trust, The native would do it over and over again. "See you boys when the sun rises, yes?"

"That you will," Haytham leans in to place a kiss on her forehead. "And hopefully, Church."