Connor My Dear Boy (FINISHED)

3

Connor stood dumbly in his new room after Haytham, his father, he supposed, had left. Eventually, after about ten or so minutes of standing there stock-still like a statue, he slid the straps of his bag off of his shoulders and set it onto the ground carefully. He sat down carefully on the pristine bed, and stared at the wall until his father called him for dinner.

Connor slunk down the stairs hesitantly. He wandered around for a little while until he managed to find the kitchen. Haytham's back was to him, at the stove, cooking something. Connor slid into one of the four empty chairs at the dining room table, pushing aside a stack of papers. Haytham heard him and glanced back.

"Sorry about that." he said, setting a plate of spaghetti in front of Connor, "I've been meaning to work on those."

Connor's mouth watered at the sight of the spaghetti; it was his favorite. He poked at it with his fork hesitantly as Haytham sat across from him.

"Sorry if you don't like spaghetti," he added. "I didn't know what you liked, so I just..." he trailed off, his mouth falling into a frown before he moved another mountain of papers to the floor.

Connor carefully bit into his dinner and deemed it satisfactory; it was okay, he supposed, but it was nowhere near as good as the kind his mom used to make.

"Unfortunately I have to go into work tomorrow; I have to watch a couple of presentations. However, then it's Saturday, and I was thinking we could spend the day together." continued Haytham briskly.

Connor hesitated. "What do you do?"

Haytham looked at him in surprise and Connor realized that was the first thing he had said to the man.

"I'm an English teacher." Haytham said slowly, "Our town isn't big enough for three different schools, so we have the primary schoolers and the high schoolers go to the same school."

Connor looked at the stack he had moved and sure enough, printed on the first page, were the words, "Diction in "The Beggar's Opera" and added in as an afterthought under that in neat, flowing cursive, was the name Ezio Auditore. Judging by the score scribbled in at the top, Ezio, whomever he may be, would have to redo his paper.

"Will I be going to school?" Connor asked carefully.

"Of course you will." Haytham said sharply, "But not immediately, so you can get settled. I figured that would be best. Soon, though."

Connor looked back down at his dinner and poked at it with his fork. He missed his old school. He had had friends there, and he missed them. Kanen'tó:kon was the one he had been closest to, and now there was a possibility that he was never going to see him again.

"If..." Haytham hesitated, "Can you tell me what happened? To Ziio? If it's not too painful." he said quickly.

Connor froze, and the world around him seemed to fall away. He didn't look at Haytham, and his eyes fixed at a knot in the wood of the table as he set his fork down carefully. He took a shaky breath, searching for his voice again.

"She died." Connor said eventually, "And now I'm here."

Haytham fell silent, Connor's message clear.

"Anyways," Haytham said quickly. "Once you're settled in, maybe after a week or so, I'll enroll you. It's a good school, with good people. I'm sure you'll find some friends soon."

Connor nodded.

No one said anything for the rest of the evening. After dinner, Haytham kept looking like he wanted to say something more to him, but he remained silent. Haytham pulled a stack of papers he needed to grade towards him, and Connor aimlessly explored the house for the next couple hours or so until he quietly informed Haytham that he was going to bed.

"Okay." Haytham said, looking up at him, "Just let me know if you need anything."

Without another word, Connor turned and headed back upstairs. He went into the room where he was to stay, and laid down on the bed where he stared up at the ceiling until he fell into an uneasy sleep.