Glancing away, Haytham’s mind reeled at Hickey’s revelation. Along with a disturbingly warm sort of satisfaction. Not only did Ziio give him a child, she apparently granted him a finely honed weapon. Yet Hickey revealed a rather glaring hindrance; said weapon was obviously pointed in the wrong direction and at a wrongly perceived enemy.
“Anythin’ else?” Hickey’s slurred voice interrupted his thoughts. Looking up, Haytham saw the man looked to be a few minutes from passing out. The stitches in his shoulder appeared only halfway complete as well.
“No, that will be all, Thomas,” Haytham calmly replied. “Not to worry, you will be greatly rewarded for your services. Chiefly, in keeping your hands to yourself,” he wrinkled his nose is distaste.
“Hey now, I like me coin well enough. But I wasn’t lookin’ to be all sordid and wot not with ‘er,” Thomas rocked forward and waved a dismissive hand at Haytham. “Frankly, boy-o?” he slowly said, eyes sliding closed for a moment so he could collect himself, “You need to go have a little sit-down with that bloomin’ arsehole, Lee. He’s the one that wanted me to do to ‘er…whatever ‘n the fuck the blighter thought I’d be too dimwitted to do to ‘er.”
Haytham gave a snort of disbelief at that, shaking his head in disagreement. “I am sure Charles meant no such ill intent-”
“Who in the bloody hell do he think he be foolin’?!” Hickey bellowed, raising his bottle in challenge. “I was there, Kenway! I bloody saw the expectation of what he wanted ‘o me with me own two eyes. And God as me witness, that sinister ‘lil sonofabitch wanted me to…oi!” his eyes widened at how Haytham abruptly took a handful of silent steps forward.
Well, this shit was quickly spinning way too out of control.
It did no one any sort of good whenever Haytham Kenway found it necessary to invade one’s personal space. Especially, when that infuriated gaze was combined with that increasingly taciturn expression that was starting to paint the grandmaster’s face. A mingling of those two, and you usually ended up dead. Or pretty solidly maimed, for life. Eerie, the she-wolf wore a similar expression, more often than not. It was bloody uncanny…
“Oi!” Hickey thundered, swatting at Dr. Jameson’s arm as he slid the stitching needle into his skin, “Watch yer fuckin’ hands, mate!” he hissed. Rolling his eyes, the doctor insisted that he drink himself into more of a stupor. Fucking hell, it as though his half his back was on bloody fire. Finishing off the rum in one long gulp, Hickey tossed the bottle behind his uninjured shoulder, not giving a damn as it shattered across the floorboards. All that really mattered was that a fresh one inexplicably appeared in his hand in the matter of a few seconds. Good on that, then. Now he remembered why the old Doctor wasn’t a complete tosser.
“Thomas,” Haytham lightly said, interrupting his thoughts, “I need you to focus and remember exactly what you did with the woman in your cell, yes?”
Letting out a piercing burp, Hickey murmured, “Alrighty ‘en, boss, I get ya.” Dropping a hand to his lap, he began nervously rubbing it along his thigh as he quickly nodded, “So, uh, how can I go puttin’ this in the sort ‘o…delicate terms I need to properly convey it? Mostly so that ya don’t go end up stabbin’ me clean through me precious throat?”
Haytham gave a careless shrug in spite of his quietly vehement, “I would say that for once, you need to think very carefully before you speak, Thomas.”
“I see, I see, I’m gettin’ it,” he mumbled. Pausing for a bit, Hickey swallowed before slowly beginning. “Lee put her in me cell a day ‘afore I was released. Now, what crossed his addled brain to go doin’ such? We ain’t exactly ever been close, so I ain’t one to know his motivations.” Looking downwards, he saw one of Haytham’s hands bunched along his cloak, his knuckle beginning to turn white. “All I did was point out to ‘im that ‘er being there was a waste ‘o time,” Hickey swiftly continued, “Save gettin’ outta her clutches when she laid into me, I kept me hands square off ‘o her.”
“This is all that transpired when she was there?” Haytham slowly replied, enunciating each word.
“I swear it on me mother’s grave,” Hickey held up a hand of surrender. Worrying his lip with his teeth, he exhaled, “I admit I be a lot ‘o unsavory things, Haytham,” he shrugged. “But I don’t go about takin’ to me bed what ain’t given to me freely, catch me drift? I ain’t all unseemly like that.”
Admittedly, it was true. Hickey had zero qualms when it came to thieving, spying and being generally conniving. He whored and drank as though his life depended on it. He never flinched at having to kill for the sake of carrying out a mission. But physical violation had never been a charge leveled against him. Nor was he apt to deceive, at least not when it came to staying in line with the order. In spite of his coarse demeanor and tendency towards the wanton, he’s was thoroughly dependable. Well, save getting caught for counterfeiting this time. Then again, Haytham’s daughter was more to blame for that muck up. So he had no reason to disbelieve him.
“I will speak to Charles,” Haytham replied, “And you shall come to see that it was all a misunderstanding.”
“Humph,” Hickey sneered, “A likely story,” he slurred. A few moments later and he lost consciousness. Dr. Jameson assured Haytham that the boy would recover, assuming a few day’s rest and infection didn’t set in.
Leaving the doctor to it, Haytham allowed his mind to wander. Salvaging his today’s ruined plans would prove rather simple. It was the new challenge ahead of him that would require a more nuanced touch. Mostly, how best to make his apparent daughter see the error of her ways. Without a doubt, he’d many regrets in his life so far. But allowing the last of the Kenway line slip through his fingers so easily was most certainly not going to be one them. Not so long as he still drew breathe.
Note: I'll be archiving this at AO3, under my user name sphinx81 and using the same title.
Re: FILL: Short Change Heroes, Part 6a/?
“Anythin’ else?” Hickey’s slurred voice interrupted his thoughts. Looking up, Haytham saw the man looked to be a few minutes from passing out. The stitches in his shoulder appeared only halfway complete as well.
“No, that will be all, Thomas,” Haytham calmly replied. “Not to worry, you will be greatly rewarded for your services. Chiefly, in keeping your hands to yourself,” he wrinkled his nose is distaste.
“Hey now, I like me coin well enough. But I wasn’t lookin’ to be all sordid and wot not with ‘er,” Thomas rocked forward and waved a dismissive hand at Haytham. “Frankly, boy-o?” he slowly said, eyes sliding closed for a moment so he could collect himself, “You need to go have a little sit-down with that bloomin’ arsehole, Lee. He’s the one that wanted me to do to ‘er…whatever ‘n the fuck the blighter thought I’d be too dimwitted to do to ‘er.”
Haytham gave a snort of disbelief at that, shaking his head in disagreement. “I am sure Charles meant no such ill intent-”
“Who in the bloody hell do he think he be foolin’?!” Hickey bellowed, raising his bottle in challenge. “I was there, Kenway! I bloody saw the expectation of what he wanted ‘o me with me own two eyes. And God as me witness, that sinister ‘lil sonofabitch wanted me to…oi!” his eyes widened at how Haytham abruptly took a handful of silent steps forward.
Well, this shit was quickly spinning way too out of control.
It did no one any sort of good whenever Haytham Kenway found it necessary to invade one’s personal space. Especially, when that infuriated gaze was combined with that increasingly taciturn expression that was starting to paint the grandmaster’s face. A mingling of those two, and you usually ended up dead. Or pretty solidly maimed, for life. Eerie, the she-wolf wore a similar expression, more often than not. It was bloody uncanny…
“Oi!” Hickey thundered, swatting at Dr. Jameson’s arm as he slid the stitching needle into his skin, “Watch yer fuckin’ hands, mate!” he hissed. Rolling his eyes, the doctor insisted that he drink himself into more of a stupor. Fucking hell, it as though his half his back was on bloody fire. Finishing off the rum in one long gulp, Hickey tossed the bottle behind his uninjured shoulder, not giving a damn as it shattered across the floorboards. All that really mattered was that a fresh one inexplicably appeared in his hand in the matter of a few seconds. Good on that, then. Now he remembered why the old Doctor wasn’t a complete tosser.
“Thomas,” Haytham lightly said, interrupting his thoughts, “I need you to focus and remember exactly what you did with the woman in your cell, yes?”
Letting out a piercing burp, Hickey murmured, “Alrighty ‘en, boss, I get ya.” Dropping a hand to his lap, he began nervously rubbing it along his thigh as he quickly nodded, “So, uh, how can I go puttin’ this in the sort ‘o…delicate terms I need to properly convey it? Mostly so that ya don’t go end up stabbin’ me clean through me precious throat?”
Haytham gave a careless shrug in spite of his quietly vehement, “I would say that for once, you need to think very carefully before you speak, Thomas.”
“I see, I see, I’m gettin’ it,” he mumbled. Pausing for a bit, Hickey swallowed before slowly beginning. “Lee put her in me cell a day ‘afore I was released. Now, what crossed his addled brain to go doin’ such? We ain’t exactly ever been close, so I ain’t one to know his motivations.” Looking downwards, he saw one of Haytham’s hands bunched along his cloak, his knuckle beginning to turn white. “All I did was point out to ‘im that ‘er being there was a waste ‘o time,” Hickey swiftly continued, “Save gettin’ outta her clutches when she laid into me, I kept me hands square off ‘o her.”
“This is all that transpired when she was there?” Haytham slowly replied, enunciating each word.
“I swear it on me mother’s grave,” Hickey held up a hand of surrender. Worrying his lip with his teeth, he exhaled, “I admit I be a lot ‘o unsavory things, Haytham,” he shrugged. “But I don’t go about takin’ to me bed what ain’t given to me freely, catch me drift? I ain’t all unseemly like that.”
Admittedly, it was true. Hickey had zero qualms when it came to thieving, spying and being generally conniving. He whored and drank as though his life depended on it. He never flinched at having to kill for the sake of carrying out a mission. But physical violation had never been a charge leveled against him. Nor was he apt to deceive, at least not when it came to staying in line with the order. In spite of his coarse demeanor and tendency towards the wanton, he’s was thoroughly dependable. Well, save getting caught for counterfeiting this time. Then again, Haytham’s daughter was more to blame for that muck up. So he had no reason to disbelieve him.
“I will speak to Charles,” Haytham replied, “And you shall come to see that it was all a misunderstanding.”
“Humph,” Hickey sneered, “A likely story,” he slurred. A few moments later and he lost consciousness. Dr. Jameson assured Haytham that the boy would recover, assuming a few day’s rest and infection didn’t set in.
Leaving the doctor to it, Haytham allowed his mind to wander. Salvaging his today’s ruined plans would prove rather simple. It was the new challenge ahead of him that would require a more nuanced touch. Mostly, how best to make his apparent daughter see the error of her ways. Without a doubt, he’d many regrets in his life so far. But allowing the last of the Kenway line slip through his fingers so easily was most certainly not going to be one them. Not so long as he still drew breathe.
Note: I'll be archiving this at AO3, under my user name sphinx81 and using the same title.