Assassin's Creed Chronos_Retribution (Ezio x OC)

22 - Leap of Faith

July 3, 1501

Rome, Italy

"He's eating so good. Look at him," Catherine chuckled as she gave her boy the bottle of goat's milk, which he sucked greedily. He even made grumbling sounds of annoyance when it fell away form his mouth before he clamped his tiny fingers around it once more. His eyes moved from the redhead to the dark-haired man beside her, both of whom looked down lovingly at the baby.

"Good—a big appetite means he'll grow strong," Ezio chuckled, bringing an arm to drape across the top of the couch in the study, his hand lingering on his wife's shoulders. He lifted it up to touch her cheek gently, though. "How are you feeling, by the way? I could tell you were tossing and turning last night."

She smiled, albeit a bit sadly, "Just... bad dreams. I think. I don't remember them—just that... I was restless."

"You'll... be alright?" he asked, this time softly. She looked to him and saw the underlying meaning. In some ways, the notion hurt, and in others, she knew it was called for. Her "recovery" had been drastic and sudden with no clear indication she was truly healed. Even after a few days she doubted herself at times and wondered what might set her back—if she would go bac—and if she could stop it. So far, she had kept strong. At most, there was just quiet whispers like a feeling of nostalgia, but then she would have someone with her and they would stop. Her children and Ezio helped the most, and it was really only when she was utterly alone or in the darkest hours of the night that she swore she might slip at any moment. But she never did. She remained herself—with clarity. And the guilt. It gnawed at her even when she wasn't consciously aware of it, and always she wondered if she might ever begin to repay for her sins.

"Yes—I think so."

"'Cat," he replied, tone urging her to say what she wasn't.

She sighed, laying her head on his shoulder, "I just... worry. I don't want to go back to how I was. I'm afraid I will. I don't always feel strong enough. I worry over what I've done and how to fix it all... some I can't. And others..."

"Like what?" he asked, but she knew he already knew. For the most part.

"I guess... well, the recruits, for one. I was so hard on them... I mean, it wasn't... bad. Kind of. But... I was teaching them to be violent—dangerous."

Ezio chuckled, kissing her forehead, "Well, I can assure you that won't be a problem. Ah, now, now, I'm being serious. In fact, you'll see. I sent word out for them to return tomorrow. You'll see then."

"O... kay," the redhead mused, raising a brow now that she was upright and could face him proper. Mario gurgled some, whining as his bottle emptied. He began to make short cries, unhappy with his lack of meal and his belly being rather full. Catherine chuckled, shifting him so could rub and pat his back lightly. She sighed as she returned her thoughts to the topic at hand. "There were our targets, too—and Micheletto... I hate him. I know I do. When I think about him I hate everything about him and want him to die... but how I was...

She paused to look at Ezio for a moment, then the ground, "I don't think I deserve to be an Assassin anymore."

"Catherine—," Ezio started, but she reached over with her free hand to grasp his, smiling weakly.

"An Assassin wouldn't do what I did. I betrayed what we stood for, and I did it willingly, no matter why I became what I did... and even now I worry... can I control myself in the future? If I come to face Micheletto again, will I keep my composure? Or will I want to torture him slowly, so he suffers as much as I wish he could? And what of Cesare? Could I end him quickly? Or would I cut him bit by bit until he begs me to die, but then I'd let him bleed and starve and thirst and die slow? I can't lie and say I don't wish for it... and I worry I couldn't keep from doing it. I worry you couldn't stop me from it, and that means I can't trust myself—not as an Assassin."