Scheming was strange. It was not so much that Charles was not used to the activity (he was one of the Inner Circle and had unfortunately found it a most necessary part of delivering on his responsibilities), but it felt strange to be scheming against himself.
Of a sort.
Charles still vehemently denied any degree of resemblance between his own impeccable person and that utterly ridiculous individual who called himself Charles Lee in this world.
The form of the scheme was also vexing. Charles's usual affairs were limited to keeping rivals and enemies silent, mostly through removing them altogether or, if necessary, through blackmail and other means of leverage. There occassionally needed to be someone in the continental army who stood in the Order's way or a British Templar who possessed too much loyalty to the Crown and not enough to the Order. And a long, long time ago, Charles was one of the leaders of the operation to wipe the colonies of the Assassin Brotherhood.
He smiled bitterly.
What difficulty that was. The Brotherhood was a tricky lot, quite formidable foes, and it took both his own resolve and Master Kenway's genius to stamp out their rot before they could fully take hold. They'd been utterly exhausted afterwards, both from the mental and physical exertion required and from the loss of life that the execution of their plan resulted in. But they had done it and, to date, it had been the most difficult operation that Charles had participated in.
This planning, while small in comparison, was so vastly dissimilar that Charles was not sure where to begin.
He wanted this world's Connor to improve. To do that, he must remove the man from his wife. And with the way his counterpart insisted on watching over his wife at every available opportunity and vehemently opposed their suggestions to leave the Omega alone...
And that was the problem, wasn't it? This world's Charles had an unhealthy fixation on his wife. A fixation that knew no reason.
It occurred to Charles that it was somewhat amusing that he of all people should note another man's obsession, but he supposed that his death experience and removal from his own world altogether gave him new perspective. He saw now how he was utterly single-minded in his objectives, and how he had let his devastation over Connor's death allow him to destroy everything else he held dear.
It was a most unworthy thing to have done, to abandon his son like that, to ignore Master Kenway's orders and to shirk his duties. And it stained Connor's honor, that he did so in his wife's name. Connor would not have wanted him to take this route, and now he cannot return to his son.
And while his counterpart stood in his way, he did not quite want to kill his counterpart. The man was irritating, insulting and demeaning. He was mostly definitely a nuisance, but not quite a threat, and Charles had honor enough to look first to nonlethal means before resorting to the lethal ones.
It gave him a headache.
How did one scheme against what was technically oneself? And how did one do so successfully when the target had more power, standing, support and connections? His counterpart had the support of this world's Order, was the respected commander of the continental army and was master of his house. Charles was, at best, his estranged cousin and a guest welcomed only until his counterpart's patience ran out. It was a fine line that Charles was seeking to walk, and he did not know how to begin his first step.
What could he do to remove the other Charles's toxic influence on this world's Connor, so that the Omega could heal and Charles could return home?
That was the crux of the situation, wasn't it? From his and Doctor White's observations, his counterpart was toxic to his wife, and while this world's Connor would likely last to the childbirth, there was very little chance he would survive it.
And Charles knew that his stay in this world was connected to the Omega. That brief image in the green room, the certainty in that disembodied voice he heard back then... It all made sense.
So what would happen if this world's Connor died? Would Charles ever be able to return home? Or would he be stuck here, in this world where he could never hold his son? Where he could not even take ownership of his own identity?
It was not a comforting thought, and so Charles struggled to think of a way to remove his counterpart's influence.
There had to be something. Something that would work.
But what?
His counterpart would never allow his wife to be away from him, and the only people who could stand against him, the Assassins, were defeated. The survivors were under house arrest, crippled to prevent their ever being a threat again. Clipper was under the watchful eyes of this world's James. And Connor himself could be of no help, his mind wandering away somewhere while his body lay in his enemy's possession.
What of this world's Templars? If Charles contacted the Haytham Kenway and explained the situation, would the man help? Connor was his son, and Charles's mentor had always had a close relationship with his Omega son.
It was one of the many reasons Charles had been so hesitant to pursue his suit at first. Master Kenway was protective of Connor, as was his right as the Omega's Alpha father. And after Charles had impregnated Connor, he had been worried that Master Kenway would take his balls as a lesson to him. Thankfully, Charles's mentor had done no such thing, but Charles secretly suspected that that was due more to consideration for Connor and the thought of future grandchildren rather than any restraint on Charles's behalf.
Ah...but this world's Haytham Kenway had only known his son for a very short time. Too short to form any substantial bond, and they were enemies besides.
It was unthinkable in his own world to think of Master Kenway as less than supportive and adoring of his son. But this was not his own world, and Charles could not bank on any potential affections that Haytham Kenway might hold for his child.
Who else was there? Charles's own resources were limited here. He had no home, no fortune, no connections. His sole support was his counterpart, and his counterpart would not listen to reason.
Charles paced the length of his room, frustrated and disappointed. To have striven so much and accomplished so little...
It rankled. Charles was not used to failure, especially not with such consequences at the end of it.
What more could he do?
A knock sounded on his door, and he walked over to answer it.
Doctor White.
“May I speak with you?”
Charles blinked.
It was...late. He had expected the Omega to be asleep.
“Please come in,” he murmured, opening the door. The Omega doctor quickly slipped in, looking about furtively as he did so.
Huh. That was...odd.
“Can I help you?” Charles asked.
The doctor spun around to face him.
“You must do something.”
Charles blinked.
“I—“
Doctor White grasped him by the arms. There was an air of fatigue about him, and his face was strained in a look of pain.
“I fear for my friend. He is not getting much better, and at his current strength, he will not survive the birthing process. It is impossible.”
The hands on Charles's arms trembled, and Charles moved to hold the man's shoulders, to support that shaking form.
“Doctor,” he whispered. “You are not well. You must rest.”
He moved to help Doctor White over to a chair. The man shook his head and refused to move.
“No,” Doctor White sighed. “It is not rest I need. It is justice and hope. And I fear that I am low on both.”
“You must not give up, Doctor. Your friend will never recover if—“
“He cannot recover anyways.”
Charles's breath caught in his throat. He wanted to deny those words. He wanted to forget that they had ever been spoken, but he could not. The words were horrible, but they had the air of truth to them. His hands tightened convulsively.
“Surely, surely there is still hope?” He whispered.
The good doctor shook his head.
“Birthing can be a tricky and difficult process as it is, even in the best of situations for female Omegas. Our science is not advanced enough to ensure safe delivery all the time. For a male Omega who, for all intents and purposes, already looks and acts a corpse—”
Charles swallowed thickly at those words.
“—I do not have any delusions that Connor would survive it.”
It was said with such finality, and Charles felt despair crawl up his belly. To lose this chance to return home, to perhaps never see his baby boy again...
“There must be something, something we can do,” he urged. “Better food, more medicine, more fresh air—“
“No. We tried all of that. The improvement is minimal, and these days, I fear that I was only imagining it.”
Doctor White sighed.
“We are only treating the minor causes of Connor's illness. The major one remains, and so Connor does not improve.”
The major one. Charles's counterpart himself.
It was now Charles's turn to sigh.
“I do not know what to do about that,” he admitted. “This other Charles is so stubborn, so determined to have his way...”
He paused, suddenly frustrated beyond all measure.
“I do not know what to do to change things,” he finished finally.
The good doctor shiftened underneath his hands.
“When I first agreed to do this, to treat Connor rather than end his pain, you made me a promise.”
That drew a startled look from Charles.
“I—“
The doctor moved to grasp his shoulders.
“You promised me that if this despicable version of you persists in his idiocy, that you would take care of him.”
Charles fidgeted uneasily.
“I—“
“I came here at this time to ask you to keep that promise. Or,” the doctor looked at him archly, “do you sympathize with him? After all, he is you, albeit with a different life. I would not blame you for your loyalty to him.”
It went unsaid that the doctor would consider Charles a man of uncertain morals, who only kept his word for those things that were convenient for him.
“I am not loyal to him,” Charles stressed. “But I have tried to think of a solution, and I do not have one yet. I try to think of what I can do to convince my counterpart of the error of his ways. I try to think what I can do to remove Connor from him. But he is the commander in this land, with friends who back him and resources that I do not have.”
Charles paused and wet his lips.
“Do not forget that I do not actually exist in this world. I am simply a phantom that appeared, that this Charles allowed to be called his cousin. My influence and power here is limited, and I fear there is little I can do if he does not listen. I—“
“Get rid of him.”
Charles blinked. Then he gaped as he understood the meaning of the words.
“You want me to kill him?” He whispered in a frantic whisper.
“I do not see another solution.”
“Killing him is not a solution!”
“Then what would you suggest? You said it yourself, he does not listen to reason and your ability to move against him is limited. He will continue his ways, and things will remain as they were until Connor dies in childbirth. Is this what you want?”
“Of course not, but—“
“So kill him.”
Charles gaped.
This Doctor White was so bloodthirsty and different from his own.
How could this world be so wrong? Doctor White, himself, Mary, so practical and reasonable and normal in his world were all so wrong here. Bloodthirsty, suspicious and paranoid.
Charles wanted to be gone from here.
“It is not so easy to kill such a man as he.”
“But you have experience in that, do you not?” The question was asked archly, and Charles had the sneaking suspicion that the good doctor knew full well his measure.
While he was not quite the monster his counterpart was, he was also no saint.
“It is extreme—“
“This problem needs an extreme solution.”
“It would not be a solution if everyone is out for my head for having killed this world's Charles Lee,” Charles muttered.
Doctor White snorted.
“Is that your concern?”
Charles looked at him angrily.
“I wish to return home to my son, to the remainder of my family. I cannot do that if I am dead.”
The Omega doctor shook his head.
“The solution is so simple, and you truly do not see?”
“See what?”
“Who are you? Who is this person that I am speaking to?”
Charles was confused.
“You know who I am—“
“Humor me.”
Charles shrugged.
“I am Charles Lee of...“
He stopped.
And he understood.
“A way to tie all loose ends, removing my counterpart's influence and power to inflict retaliation should we intercede.”
Doctor White nodded.
“Yes. It solves all our problems. If,” he pointed out sternly, “you can act.”
Finding Connor 23
Finding Connor
Chapter 22
Scheming was strange. It was not so much that Charles was not used to the activity (he was one of the Inner Circle and had unfortunately found it a most necessary part of delivering on his responsibilities), but it felt strange to be scheming against himself.
Of a sort.
Charles still vehemently denied any degree of resemblance between his own impeccable person and that utterly ridiculous individual who called himself Charles Lee in this world.
The form of the scheme was also vexing. Charles's usual affairs were limited to keeping rivals and enemies silent, mostly through removing them altogether or, if necessary, through blackmail and other means of leverage. There occassionally needed to be someone in the continental army who stood in the Order's way or a British Templar who possessed too much loyalty to the Crown and not enough to the Order. And a long, long time ago, Charles was one of the leaders of the operation to wipe the colonies of the Assassin Brotherhood.
He smiled bitterly.
What difficulty that was. The Brotherhood was a tricky lot, quite formidable foes, and it took both his own resolve and Master Kenway's genius to stamp out their rot before they could fully take hold. They'd been utterly exhausted afterwards, both from the mental and physical exertion required and from the loss of life that the execution of their plan resulted in. But they had done it and, to date, it had been the most difficult operation that Charles had participated in.
This planning, while small in comparison, was so vastly dissimilar that Charles was not sure where to begin.
He wanted this world's Connor to improve. To do that, he must remove the man from his wife. And with the way his counterpart insisted on watching over his wife at every available opportunity and vehemently opposed their suggestions to leave the Omega alone...
And that was the problem, wasn't it? This world's Charles had an unhealthy fixation on his wife. A fixation that knew no reason.
It occurred to Charles that it was somewhat amusing that he of all people should note another man's obsession, but he supposed that his death experience and removal from his own world altogether gave him new perspective. He saw now how he was utterly single-minded in his objectives, and how he had let his devastation over Connor's death allow him to destroy everything else he held dear.
It was a most unworthy thing to have done, to abandon his son like that, to ignore Master Kenway's orders and to shirk his duties. And it stained Connor's honor, that he did so in his wife's name. Connor would not have wanted him to take this route, and now he cannot return to his son.
And while his counterpart stood in his way, he did not quite want to kill his counterpart. The man was irritating, insulting and demeaning. He was mostly definitely a nuisance, but not quite a threat, and Charles had honor enough to look first to nonlethal means before resorting to the lethal ones.
It gave him a headache.
How did one scheme against what was technically oneself? And how did one do so successfully when the target had more power, standing, support and connections? His counterpart had the support of this world's Order, was the respected commander of the continental army and was master of his house. Charles was, at best, his estranged cousin and a guest welcomed only until his counterpart's patience ran out. It was a fine line that Charles was seeking to walk, and he did not know how to begin his first step.
What could he do to remove the other Charles's toxic influence on this world's Connor, so that the Omega could heal and Charles could return home?
That was the crux of the situation, wasn't it? From his and Doctor White's observations, his counterpart was toxic to his wife, and while this world's Connor would likely last to the childbirth, there was very little chance he would survive it.
And Charles knew that his stay in this world was connected to the Omega. That brief image in the green room, the certainty in that disembodied voice he heard back then... It all made sense.
So what would happen if this world's Connor died? Would Charles ever be able to return home? Or would he be stuck here, in this world where he could never hold his son? Where he could not even take ownership of his own identity?
It was not a comforting thought, and so Charles struggled to think of a way to remove his counterpart's influence.
There had to be something. Something that would work.
But what?
His counterpart would never allow his wife to be away from him, and the only people who could stand against him, the Assassins, were defeated. The survivors were under house arrest, crippled to prevent their ever being a threat again. Clipper was under the watchful eyes of this world's James. And Connor himself could be of no help, his mind wandering away somewhere while his body lay in his enemy's possession.
What of this world's Templars? If Charles contacted the Haytham Kenway and explained the situation, would the man help? Connor was his son, and Charles's mentor had always had a close relationship with his Omega son.
It was one of the many reasons Charles had been so hesitant to pursue his suit at first. Master Kenway was protective of Connor, as was his right as the Omega's Alpha father. And after Charles had impregnated Connor, he had been worried that Master Kenway would take his balls as a lesson to him. Thankfully, Charles's mentor had done no such thing, but Charles secretly suspected that that was due more to consideration for Connor and the thought of future grandchildren rather than any restraint on Charles's behalf.
Ah...but this world's Haytham Kenway had only known his son for a very short time. Too short to form any substantial bond, and they were enemies besides.
It was unthinkable in his own world to think of Master Kenway as less than supportive and adoring of his son. But this was not his own world, and Charles could not bank on any potential affections that Haytham Kenway might hold for his child.
Who else was there? Charles's own resources were limited here. He had no home, no fortune, no connections. His sole support was his counterpart, and his counterpart would not listen to reason.
Charles paced the length of his room, frustrated and disappointed. To have striven so much and accomplished so little...
It rankled. Charles was not used to failure, especially not with such consequences at the end of it.
What more could he do?
A knock sounded on his door, and he walked over to answer it.
Doctor White.
“May I speak with you?”
Charles blinked.
It was...late. He had expected the Omega to be asleep.
“Please come in,” he murmured, opening the door. The Omega doctor quickly slipped in, looking about furtively as he did so.
Huh. That was...odd.
“Can I help you?” Charles asked.
The doctor spun around to face him.
“You must do something.”
Charles blinked.
“I—“
Doctor White grasped him by the arms. There was an air of fatigue about him, and his face was strained in a look of pain.
“I fear for my friend. He is not getting much better, and at his current strength, he will not survive the birthing process. It is impossible.”
The hands on Charles's arms trembled, and Charles moved to hold the man's shoulders, to support that shaking form.
“Doctor,” he whispered. “You are not well. You must rest.”
He moved to help Doctor White over to a chair. The man shook his head and refused to move.
“No,” Doctor White sighed. “It is not rest I need. It is justice and hope. And I fear that I am low on both.”
“You must not give up, Doctor. Your friend will never recover if—“
“He cannot recover anyways.”
Charles's breath caught in his throat. He wanted to deny those words. He wanted to forget that they had ever been spoken, but he could not. The words were horrible, but they had the air of truth to them. His hands tightened convulsively.
“Surely, surely there is still hope?” He whispered.
The good doctor shook his head.
“Birthing can be a tricky and difficult process as it is, even in the best of situations for female Omegas. Our science is not advanced enough to ensure safe delivery all the time. For a male Omega who, for all intents and purposes, already looks and acts a corpse—”
Charles swallowed thickly at those words.
“—I do not have any delusions that Connor would survive it.”
It was said with such finality, and Charles felt despair crawl up his belly. To lose this chance to return home, to perhaps never see his baby boy again...
“There must be something, something we can do,” he urged. “Better food, more medicine, more fresh air—“
“No. We tried all of that. The improvement is minimal, and these days, I fear that I was only imagining it.”
Doctor White sighed.
“We are only treating the minor causes of Connor's illness. The major one remains, and so Connor does not improve.”
The major one. Charles's counterpart himself.
It was now Charles's turn to sigh.
“I do not know what to do about that,” he admitted. “This other Charles is so stubborn, so determined to have his way...”
He paused, suddenly frustrated beyond all measure.
“I do not know what to do to change things,” he finished finally.
The good doctor shiftened underneath his hands.
“When I first agreed to do this, to treat Connor rather than end his pain, you made me a promise.”
That drew a startled look from Charles.
“I—“
The doctor moved to grasp his shoulders.
“You promised me that if this despicable version of you persists in his idiocy, that you would take care of him.”
Charles fidgeted uneasily.
“I—“
“I came here at this time to ask you to keep that promise. Or,” the doctor looked at him archly, “do you sympathize with him? After all, he is you, albeit with a different life. I would not blame you for your loyalty to him.”
It went unsaid that the doctor would consider Charles a man of uncertain morals, who only kept his word for those things that were convenient for him.
“I am not loyal to him,” Charles stressed. “But I have tried to think of a solution, and I do not have one yet. I try to think of what I can do to convince my counterpart of the error of his ways. I try to think what I can do to remove Connor from him. But he is the commander in this land, with friends who back him and resources that I do not have.”
Charles paused and wet his lips.
“Do not forget that I do not actually exist in this world. I am simply a phantom that appeared, that this Charles allowed to be called his cousin. My influence and power here is limited, and I fear there is little I can do if he does not listen. I—“
“Get rid of him.”
Charles blinked. Then he gaped as he understood the meaning of the words.
“You want me to kill him?” He whispered in a frantic whisper.
“I do not see another solution.”
“Killing him is not a solution!”
“Then what would you suggest? You said it yourself, he does not listen to reason and your ability to move against him is limited. He will continue his ways, and things will remain as they were until Connor dies in childbirth. Is this what you want?”
“Of course not, but—“
“So kill him.”
Charles gaped.
This Doctor White was so bloodthirsty and different from his own.
How could this world be so wrong? Doctor White, himself, Mary, so practical and reasonable and normal in his world were all so wrong here. Bloodthirsty, suspicious and paranoid.
Charles wanted to be gone from here.
“It is not so easy to kill such a man as he.”
“But you have experience in that, do you not?” The question was asked archly, and Charles had the sneaking suspicion that the good doctor knew full well his measure.
While he was not quite the monster his counterpart was, he was also no saint.
“It is extreme—“
“This problem needs an extreme solution.”
“It would not be a solution if everyone is out for my head for having killed this world's Charles Lee,” Charles muttered.
Doctor White snorted.
“Is that your concern?”
Charles looked at him angrily.
“I wish to return home to my son, to the remainder of my family. I cannot do that if I am dead.”
The Omega doctor shook his head.
“The solution is so simple, and you truly do not see?”
“See what?”
“Who are you? Who is this person that I am speaking to?”
Charles was confused.
“You know who I am—“
“Humor me.”
Charles shrugged.
“I am Charles Lee of...“
He stopped.
And he understood.
“A way to tie all loose ends, removing my counterpart's influence and power to inflict retaliation should we intercede.”
Doctor White nodded.
“Yes. It solves all our problems. If,” he pointed out sternly, “you can act.”
Charles smirked.
“I need not act. I am Charles Lee, am I not?”
“So you are.”
And so he was.
It was about time he remembered that.