Ratonhnhaké:ton

For a week, Connor didn't get a lot of quality time with Desmond.

Desmond had work and Connor had medical appointments and when he was home, he tended to crash out under a mix of relieving stress, modern pain medication and the energy taken to heal wounds like he was recovering from.

He wasn't sleeping well, either. His nightmares were worse than ever and his sleep paralysis was still completely broken, meaning he thrashed, rolled and sometimes struck out in his sleep. Which was also the reason he didn't wear his bracers to bed, unwilling to risk Desmond's safety, should he mistakenly think Haytham was the weight on top of him.

But when he had his last medical check and bout of whatever strange healing technology this place used, he decided to surprise Desmond at work.

He arrived near the end of his shift, dressed in the jeans that Desmond had always liked on him and the loose white shirt that was technically only his on Wednesdays (but since he was wearing it for Desmond, he felt it counted). His bear claw necklace was visible, the second leather thong with the Creator coin hung low enough to remain nearly completely out of sight. The hidden blades looked like decorative, leather cuffs and he exuded quiet, competent danger as he moved through the crowd and up to the bar, waiting to see how long it took Desmond to see him.

The interesting thing about a life dedicated to revenge, is that once one had achieved it, one can be left at a loss as to what to do next.

The first three months had been easy to fill. Not dying took up a lot of time and energy and defeating infection and internal injuries to begin healing had consumed his life for those months. There was a steady flow of people coming to the Homestead to make sure he was cared for and in his lucid moments he was grateful.

In his fevered ones, he may have cursed them for not letting him simply die, like everyone else. But only in his fevered ones.

Now, a month after he was first able to leave his sickbed, he had found one of Achilles' old canes and was making a foray out into the valley. He would ideally like to go to the cove and see the Aquila, but he would settle for making it down to the river and back again unaided.

Ratonhnhaké:ton had left Hermann safely in his locked up apartment, sleeping off the massage and hopefully getting a decent night's rest without his body screaming pain at him.

he slipped back into his routine. Late nights out on rooftops, sleeping not really enough hours to get up and train and get on with his day.

He didn't contact Hermann. He didn't know when Hermann would be comfortable with seeing him again, so he would wait for him to make contact.