Learning | Jacob Frye x Reader |

So, We Meet Again

"Come here to kill me, have you?" I say, readying my bracer. I conduct a quick scan of the small room to identify anything I could use as an additional weapon.

"No I live here" He says. He can't be, Jacob? Can he?

"Wait, you're not - Jacob? Are you? Jacob Frye?" He eases his expression and gives me an confused look.

"Yes, why? Why do you know my name?" Before I could respond, Evie's shouting voice makes an entrance to the room.

"Jacob? Are you here?" she yells. Jacob looks at me and turns away.

"Oh loving sister, I'm here," Jacob teases, in a high pitched voice. I soon see Evie arrive. She looks at him and gives him a vicious eye roll.

"I see you've met Miss. (L/N), our new recruit," she smiles at me. I let out a sort of nervous giggle, if it could even be called that.

"Wait, SHE is our new recruit?" he rudely points at me, questioning his sister.

"Have some respect Jacob, I dare say that she could beat you to a pulp" He laughs sarcastically. I push his outstretched arm away from my face.

"By the looks of things, you two are in the middle of something. I'll leave you to it." As Evie walks away, I suddenly feel a huge pang of guilt. Jacob still had the gash on his cheek.

"So, you are an Assassin?" I ask. He rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue. I feel my forehead twinge in annoyance.

"Well I'm not a sailor, am I?" he says, with sarcasm dripping from his remark. In a few moments of silence, he appears to calm his demeanor slightly.

"Look, I'm sorry about your cheek, I was only trying to get you away, in case you complicated a task I was doing." I look around, and see a small green box with a red cross on it. A medical supply.

"Did you have to cut so deep?" he says, touching his face and then wincing.

"I'm sorry, it was in self-defense. Let me help you," I sympathize. He shakes his head.

"I've been attacked with a lovely assortment of weapons before from knives to guns. I'm sure I can manage a small cut," he says. He touches it once more and winces.

"Well you obviously can't," I retort, as I reach for his arm with slight force and sit him on the edge of the white-lined bed.

"I'm not a child, I'm a grown man," He adds a few moments later.

"Well, maybe try acting like one sometime" I sit next to him and open the medical supplies. I spot a small metal bottle of alcohol and a cloth. I splash some of the clear liquid on the grey cloth.

"This may sting a little," I say as I take the damp cloth and dab his open cut. He winces slightly but averts eye contact. After I finish disinfecting the cut, I grab two small white linen pieces and stick them on the cut, to stop the bleeding.

"All done," I say, appearing to snap him out of a daydream.

"Thank you," he smiles. I only notice his features now, they were covered by his hood. He is actually quite a handsome man.

"Nothing to thank for. I'm sorry I cut you in the first place," I respond, panging with guilt. He smiles and stands.

"Well, I'm off. There's another shipment of gun supplies and someone has to blow them to shit" he says.

"Any room for another" I say. I could use a look around London, especially if I was going to be based here.

"Sure, just don't cut me again," He smirks and I nod. I put on my gear and follow him. Jacob leads me through several of the train compartments, which could be described as 'neatly cluttered'. The train stops at Kings Cross and we step onto the platform. I follow Jacob through a loud crowd of people, out of the train station. Jacob enters into a carriage stationed at the side of a street. The carriage was full of men I assumed to be Rooks, so I take a seat next to Jacob.

"It's a lovely night," Jacob says. You smile mischievously.

"Lovely night for some fist work." He looks at you.

"I like your thinking uh Ms. -"

"Just call me (F/N)." He nods and returns his attention to the road.

"Do you have a gun?" he asks me.

"Well I took a couple from the shipment before it exploded, they are really good quality" I buck my hips in his direction to point out the two guns on either sides of my hips.

"I got this one myself from a Templar brute," he pointed at a beautiful gold revolver.

"Looks rare for an average brute."

"He was a tough bugger, but I got him. He was especially sad about parting with this," he says, shaking the gun. We were approaching a dark alley. Of course it was a dark alley way, lined with dark cobble stone and all. Jacob instructed the rest of the men to stay put. I followed him on the rooftop to see the happenings of below. There was around ten blighters and one shipment attached to two horses. '

"So, here's the plan, do you know where Darela St is?" I nod. He continues.

"Okay great. I'll create a distraction further up there and you get on the carriage and drive off to Darela Street. Don't let anyone see you."

"Fine, here" I had him some spare bullets I had on hand. He shows me his jacket to reveal endless rows of bullets.

"Keep them," he pushes my hand towards me and smiles. I jump across from him and watch him go further away from me. I head towards the roof near the carriage. I hear Jacob firing gunshots and all the blighters guarding the cargo carriage leave, and they run away towards the gunshot sounds. I make my descent down and jump into the driver's seat of the carriage and slowly turn the carriage around. I make my way to the destination Jacob set, keeping an eye behind me. The sound of fighting gradually fades away. I find a safe spot on Darela street and stop the carriage. I wait for Jacob to return. I wait for a good ten minutes, before I hear the crashing noise of another carriage rambling towards me. I raise one gun in my right hand, and then realize that the driver is Jacob.

"(Y/N), you're going to have to jump!" I see blighter carriages behind him. I jump and almost miss. Almost. As both of my feet land on the wooden floor, Jacob grabs my arms and hands me a stick of lit dynamite.

"THROW IT!!" I aim and throw the dynamite at the cargo shipment of guns and the whole street lights up from the explosion.

Coincidently, we also lost the blighters during the explosion. After we got a fair distance away, Jacob started to talk.

"Shame that, I would've liked some of those guns for myself," he says, disappointed. I smile and pull three guns out from my tail coat. His face lights up, like a child's on Christmas.

"I thought you might want a few items of memorabilia."