Haytham x Reader ~ Goodbye

You stood by the window, your trembling fingers pressed against the chill of the glass. Your eyes were fixed ahead, out towards the sombre onyx sky above, heavy from the clouds that withheld the stars and glow of the moon, staving the bare streets below of any light, making the city look bleak and deserted. The relentless drum of the rain was knocking against the glass, drowning out the sounds of  your strained breathing. Your heart was pattering wildly in your chest, you chewed your bottom lip in concern. Those words playing out in you mind, ' I promise, when business is finished here, we will have all the time in the world to talk.” You should have told Haytham then, you should have whispered those 4 words, why didn't you?      

A knock on your door disturbed you from your thoughts, you hesitated, your hands quivering as you clasped them together, muttering a small prayer for good news under your breath, the knock came again, not loud and intrusive, but a subtle, melancholy tapping against the door, the air felt thick and you could feel a pressure against your chest, your lungs felt strained for air as you spoke. “Come in.” You turned, fidgeting with your wedding ring, pushing it up over your knuckle and then back in place again.  

Charles stood there, his eyes looked red, his face looked older, more lined with strain. His mouth opened but no words came out. He turned and closed the door, dragging it slowly until the catch clicked as it finally shut. “(y/n),” his voice was gentle, too gentle, barely load enough to be heard, as if the news his words were leading to could not be spoken aloud. You were already shaking your head, not wanting to hear any more words from him, “there are no words of comfort I can use to make this any easier.”

“No.” You murmured, turning from him, you couldn't look into his pale eyes in this moment, the sorrow in them told you everything, you didn't want to hear it.

“Haytham, he...” Charles' voice broke, an almost strangled noise came out as he struggled to find words, “he was murdered, at Fort George.” He finished finally, confirming the fears and whispers of yesterday, ones you had forcefully dismissed within your own mind. Charles advanced further into the room and stood behind you.

Your lips parted, but you couldn't say anything, you remained frozen from shock, your jaw quivered, threatening to leak your suppressed cries at any moment. “Who?” You managed finally.

“His son.” Charles' voice was raspy, a forced whisper, one heavy with pain.

“Oh God.” You breathed, leaning against the window frame, feeling your vision glaze over for a moment, your head was beginning to pound in time with your rushing heartbeats, you found yourself possessing over the macabre details of his death. “Charles, was it,” you stopped yourself, your entire body shuddering as tears began to trickle down your cheeks, the salty liquid burning your eyes, “was it...quick?” You asked finally. “Did he have to face it, or did he know nothing.” You added in a rushed whisper.

Charles delayed in answering, he excused himself from the room, leaving you alone with your questions. You took a unsteady breath, almost gasping to get some air. You were still numbed from the shock, left plunged into despair and disbelief.

Charles returned shortly, pressing a glass of Brandy into your free hand, your trembling fingers made the mahogany liquid slosh about the glass, which tremored from your unsteady grip. You immediately took a large swallow of the liquid, ignoring the burning sensation that ran down your throat and dully remained there, not taking in the lingering tart-sweet after taste nor the smoked woody scent, not wanting to take it in, brandy is what he always drank, what you had tasted on his lips when he kissed you after a drink, and it was painful to know he could never come home to another glass, he was never going to come back to you. “Well...” You murmured finally, after draining the last dregs from the glass.

“I'm afraid he appeared to have endured a long fight,” Charles stopped himself to take a large gulp of his drink, seeming to rely on the liquor to continue with his words “and suffered many wounds before he was finally overcome.” Charles was attempting to keep his tone calm, but the words 'finally overcome' broke through and his voice became a painful whisper, as you turned to face him you could see the tears and sorrow on his face.

The numb shock was wearing off, the brandy doing little to suppress your emotions, you felt a heat crawling through your body, sickness rising in your stomach, your head felt light, the dull ache subsiding to nothing, Charles was saying something but you couldn't make out his distant words, your vision was blurring, the faded world around you became splotchy with black patches. “Haytham.” You muttered, your eyes flicking frantically around, the grip on your empty glass loosened and you heard a shattering sound which seemed to cue the worlds silence, and like the curtains being drawn in a house after death the light was too forced from your sight, and your lids dropped shut.

********FLASHBACK********

You stood by the carriage, turning your gloves over and over in your hands as you watched Charles and Haytham talk, your husband looked completely calm, while Charles was still pleading with him to remain at Fort George - Haytham was sending you both away, although he assured you that he himself was perfectly safe at the Fort. You both knew better, if there was no danger he would have no reason to send you away. Eventually when Haytham had made his choice plainly final to Charles, the two said their goodbyes, and Charles reluctantly stepped up into the awaiting carriage.

Haytham turned to you, his gaze remaining set upon you for a moment. He placed his hands on your shoulders, his thumbs rubbing across them. “I love you.” You whispered, a ghost of a smile on your face.

Haytham returned a smile, before he leaned closer to place a small kiss on your cheek, the warmth of his breath lingering against your face as he nuzzled closer to you, nibbling your jaw line in playful affection before murmuring against your skin. “I love you too, you're everything to me, you know that.” His tone more vulnerable, more needy than usual.  

You felt goosebumps jump up across your skin as he took your face in his hands and guided your chin towards him, you dropped your gloves as he pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss, you let your eyes slip shut, feeling his hands leave your face and move to lace his fingers between your own. You smiled against his lips for a moment, before he pulled away. Your eyes flickered open, meeting with his misty orbs, they always reminded you of the mist, rolling over a freshwater lake on an early autumn morning. His lips tugged into a small smile, before he leaned to kiss your forehead softly, then both cheeks with the same care, your nose, your chin and finally your lips, lingering against them for a moment longer. “Goodbye.” He whispered, taking your gloves from the floor and brushing them off, before he gentle pulled them over your fingers and onto each hand.

“Goodbye.” You returned, your throat aching as you held back your tears.

His hand took yours and he guided you towards the carriage, your heart began to pound frantically, your chest tightening and tightening, making it hard to breath. “Wait!” You said, stopping just before the carriage. “I can't, I have to talk with you, I need to tell you something.” You blurted out.

Haytham looked surprised by your outburst. “(y/n), please, whatever it is, we can talk when things are settled here, okay?” He said gently.

Your hands were shaking, your mind fighting with anxiety to find the words. “No, I don't want to go, can't I stay, or let's all go off , all of us, together!” You exclaimed, your eyes pleading with his.

Haytham was clearly not expecting this from you, though his eyes remained kind, his smile faded. “I promise, when business is finished here, we will have all the time in the world to talk, alright? For now,  I need you to go with Charles.” He squeezed your hand,  placing one last kiss on your cheek before he helped you into the carriage. “I love you.” Were his last words before closing the door.

The carriage started off, the familiar melodic click of the horses shoes could be heard outside, mingled with the wheels grazing the ground beneath. Your eyes were fixed on the window, watching as Haytham stood looking after the carriage, he stood there watching until you were out of sight. When you were finally separated from one another's views you felt the hot sing of tears, and immediate regret, you should have told him.    

********END OF FLASHBACK********

“(y/n)?(y/n)?” Charles sighed in relief. “I was just about to send for a doctor, I still can, should you feel you need one.” His voice was distant at first, becoming clearer with every word, little specks of candle light invaded your vision as your lids parted. You were lying on your bed, Charles sitting attentively at your side.

“I'm sorry, Charles....only this is too much for me to bare.” You admitted, sitting up slowly as fresh tears began to fill your eyes, you rested a hand on your stomach and forced back a sob.

“I know.” He murmured, placing a light hand on your shoulder.  “Haytham, he deserved better, not to end upon the blade of a savage.” He spat out in anger, his eyes were filled with a mad rage as he glared past you into nothing. “Oh but don't think I won't revenge him, I will, you can feel sure of that much, I'm going to destroy everything that assassin holds dear, so he can suffer the pain of loss that he has forced us to suffer. I will work to ensure his anguish, and finally when he has been forced to witness his entire life crumble, all he cares for burn and fall to ruin, all those he loves die, then, and only then, will I have his life.” He looked purely vengeful in this moment, his face acerbic, his eyes cold, his words filled with wroth. It hurt you to see your friend in such a state, his mind consumed and ruined by grief, perhaps it hurt most of all because it was a mirrored reflection of your own anger, anger that you didn't know how to express, and knew would do nothing to ease your grief.

You remained silent for a moment, knocking tears from your cheeks with your fingers, Charles must have noticed as he snapped from his angered daze and swiftly past you a handkerchief. “It doesn't matter to me now, Charles, no amount of suffering you cause that boy will ever erase our own pain.” You kept your eyes downward, your voice weak and trembling with every word.

“No, you're right, it will not lessen any  of pain, but it will give me the satisfaction of justice.” He admitted bitterly.  

“I don't care, Charles.” You snapped, getting to your feet. “Nothing can bring my husband back, do what you wish to handle your grief, but do not expect me to be so easily soothed by more pain and death.” You stood once again by the window, hugging yourself as you still trembled from the impact of this news, from the reality of it all.

“I'm sorry, (y/n). I do not expect that to comfort you, but I fear you will end up wasting away if you do not find some reason, some fight to hold onto.” He explained in desperation, walking to stand at your side, his eyes pleading with your to heed his words.

“I have a reason Charles, something I was going to tell him in the right moment, and now...” You stopped yourself, holding back your sobs, “now I never can.”  

“Told him what?” Charles asked, his expression clueless.

Your throat was tight, your mouth dry, you glanced around the room in a hopeless search for nothing. “I am with child.” You said finally, your voice quiet, your eyes turned towards the window and the world beyond. The first time you would say those words should have been happy, they should have been said to Haytham, but he was gone, you had to face this alone. Those words would never be uttered in an excited whisper to your husband, he wouldn't be there for you in this time, or in any time to follow. He was dead, he could never be a father to his child, never watch them grow up, and you were left almost entirely alone in the world.