Connor My Dear Boy (FINISHED)

6

At the end of the school day, Haytham stayed a little while afterwards to gather up some papers to grade at home and publish that night's homework on the class website. He also briefly spoke to the people in the main office to enroll Connor.

He headed back to his house, all the while thinking about how he was going to spend the evening with Connor.

"Perhaps we can find a movie to watch..." Haytham pondered thoughtfully as he turned onto his drive.

However, as Haytham approached his house, the first thing he saw was the young boy from down the street standing on his front lawn looking upwards. On the roof stood Connor, holding a frisbee

Cold horror washed over Haytham. He parked the car as quickly as he could, and ran out onto the lawn. Connor looked down at his father guiltily, still clutching the frisbee. William Miles' boy, however, grinned up at Haytham happily.

"'Ello mister Kenway." he said brightly, "Connor and I was playing-"

Haytham didn't bother correcting the boy's grammar, as he normally would have. Instead, he shouted up at Connor, "What the bloody hell are you doing on the roof!?"

"Well, Desmond and I were playing frisbee, but it accidentally-" Connor began nervously, flinching backwards slightly.

"Stay put." Haytham growled, "I'm going to get the ladder, and you will use it to get down safely."

He ran to the shed in the back and grabbed the latter as quick as he could, although by the time he returned to the front yard Connor was safely on the ground again, dusting his jeans off, the little boy clapping his hands while he laughed, "Again! Again!"

Stoney-faced, Haytham walked the boy to Mr. Miles' house, not listening as he babbled on and on about the simply wonderful day he spent with Connor. Connor remained silent. When the babysitter tiredly answered the door, Haytham quickly explained the scene he had returned home to find, and bade that Achilles keep watch over his charge in the future.

Neither Haytham nor Connor said a word until they got back to their house.

"Sit." Haytham commanded, once they were in the living room.

Connor sat on the couch, his hands fidgeting on his lap. Despite this, however, Connor did not break eye contact with Haytham; he was not looking away in shame or embarrassment as Haytham had expected him to.

"Are you mad!?" Haytham demanded, "What were you thinking, climbing up on the bloody roof!?"

"Desmond and I were-" Connor and I began.

"Don't you go blaming that boy for what you did!" Haytham yelled, "He wasn't the one up on the roof!"

Haytham folded his arms behind his back and began to pace back and forth in front of the television.

"You could have seriously hurt yourself!" Haytham exploded, "You could have fallen down and broken your neck! And then where would you be!? I've never seen someone do something so foolish in my entire life, and I teach high schoolers! What if you had hurt yourself, and no one had been there to help you!?"

"But I didn't get hurt." Connor pointed out, almost smugly.

"Don't get cheeky with me, young man." Haytham said sternly, stopping his pacing abruptly to look at Connor, "That's not the point. You could have."

"I knew what I was doing." Connor said shortly, his arms crossing over his chest, "Besides, I don't see what the big deal is; Mom let me climb on stuff all the time."

"Well I'm not your mother, and you are not to climb on anything anymore!" Haytham exploded.

Connor scowled and stood abruptly. He stomped up stairs and Haytham could hear him slam the door to his bedroom.

"And you can stay up there for the rest of the night!" Haytham shouted.

Haytham stood in the living room for a few minutes, listening, but there was only silence. He sighed and made himself a drink before flopping down onto the couch.

After a couple of hours, Haytham finally stood and made a plate of food for each of them. He left his own plate on the dining room table and took the second upstairs. He rapped lightly on Connor's bedroom door with his free hand.

"Connor?" Haytham asked carefully, "I'm sorry I lost my temper with you. You just scared me, is all. To be honest, I enjoyed climbing on things when I was your age as well; it's only natural. But I don't want to see you hurt. Okay?"

There was no response. Frowning slightly, Haytham gently turned the door knob and entered the room to find that the light was still on, but Connor was deeply asleep. Haytham allowed a smile to lightly grace his lips.

Haytham was placing the plate of food carefully on the nightstand when he noticed the picture for the first time. It was sitting next to Connor on the bed, positioned in a way that it seemed like Connor had been looking at it moments before he had fallen asleep. It perplexed Haytham, because he had never seen it before, but he assumed that Connor had brought it with him, and it was in the drawstring bag he had, where it now laid, open, against the bed.

Haytham carefully picked up the frame from the bed, but Connor did not stir.

It was a picture of Connor and Ziio. They appeared to be standing on some hiking trail in the woods somewhere, and Ziio was holding out her arm to take the picture. Connor looked like he was about eight, and he was grinning so that Haytham could easily see the gaps where his adult teeth would grow in. Excitement lit up his features, and he looked thrilled to be there, wherever they may be. Haytham glanced down at the Connor that was currently sleeping on the bed, and he noticed helplessly that he seemed so much more worn than the younger Connor in the photograph.

Ziio, in the picture, looked worn as well; she had more wrinkles on her face than Haytham could remember her having, and there were strands of gray on both of the braids that were resting on her shoulders. Not to mention that everything about her seemed tired; her smile, her posture, her eyes, the way her free arm was slung around Connor's shoulders.

To Haytham, it seemed odd to see her in such a way. Everything about her had always made her seem strong, especially the way her dark brown eyes burned with a fiery passion as she threw herself fully into whatever she was doing. Looking at that picture now, Haytham wondered what had happened to make her change in such a way, in the fourteen years they had been apart.

Connor stirred slightly in his sleep, mumbling something that Haytham did not understand. Haytham placed the photograph on the nightstand behind the food. He grabbed an extra blanket from the closet and threw it over Connor.

Casting the room one last sweeping glance, Haytham turned off the lights on his way out.