(Unfortunately most songs don't have anything to do with the actual story, but I like the title so just listen to good music for the heck of it xD)

January 2, 1500

Monteriggioni, Italy

Catherine tried to gain a restful sleep, but it wouldn't come—not fully. She tossed and turned often before she could drift off, but that lasted only hours at most; perhaps even just minutes. She couldn't be sure beyond that she knew she would not be at ease tonight. She did take some comfort seeing her husband resting soundly, his doubts eased after their talk, but she could not be rid of the lingering feeling of dread in her belly. That, or it was her unborn child, but that was unlikely, although for once she wished it was the morning sickness and not her fears.

Sighing softly, the redhead shifted up, letting the sheets fall. A chill prickled at her skin despite her shirt, and she wasn't sure it was because of the cold of the early morning. She looked down at Ezio, who was on his side, arm still draped over her legs. He must have been more tired than he let on to not feel her shift, and so she kept her hand to herself instead of brushing his loose, still-damp hair from his face. She did watch him, though; noting the gentle rise and fall of his chest; the way his fingers twitched ever so slightly as he dreamed; the peacefulness of his face.

She was jealous, in a way, of how certain he was of things. How he could so be so sure they were free of their enemies. She couldn't remember a time she hadn't been in fear of the Templars since coming to this place-to this time so long ago. And while truthfully the Clock had been the ultimate cause for her journey, the enemy, too, had been such a driving force for everything they did and for every change in her life. And now that the Clock was gone—nothing but an inert, pretty trinket—they were the only factor for why they had continued to fight. To rid the people of their influence and preserve that freedom. But now? Now Ezio spoke of being free of such things. Such chains.

And it wasn't that she didn't want it. No, she wanted to be free of the danger—of the responsibility. They had a child now. Soon, another. A family. They had a different responsibility to see to. As long as their fight with the Templars went on, that family would be involved. It had to end if they hoped for peace. So Ezio's choice should have been the right one. Their path was that of killing. If her husband had killed Rodrigo, then he would simply have continued the cycle. Sparing the man started a new path. A path of peace. A path to fulfil the dream they'd dreamed an age ago. To grow old together, having lived a life like no other.

So why could she not believe in it?

She wanted it, but her heart could not give in.

The redhead withheld her groan as she laid back, almost flopping, and let her arm drape over her face. A mumble came from the man next to her, and his arm move as he stirred. He made another murmur, pausing in his movements, and then sighed softly.

"What's... wrong?" he rumbled, still half-asleep.

She reached down to pat his hand, "Nothing, go back to sleep, my love."

"S'not nothin'... never nothin'... wif you," he replied, and, not for the first time, she hated his uncanny ability to know her so well. He yawned as he pushed up to one elbow, moving his free arm from her hips to the limb covering her face and pulled it out of the way. She had a huffy look waiting for him, to which he let last a moment before he yawned once more. "You're still not alright with my choice."

"Just not as confident as you are. I trust you, I do. I just can't help but worry. Blame it on motherhood, I guess," she grumbled, shrugging slightly. She turned her head towards him, reaching over to rub his chin. "I'll come around. I will. I promise. It's just not easy for me to do so right now... I hate admitting it, but..."

"No, you're right to be wary. Even I think it's crazy, but Mother is right. I have to stand by my decision, and I do. It will be worth it in the end. I promise that."

"I know," Catherine smiled, leaning over to kiss him gently. "You've always done right by us... well, except the five years before we confessed, but, you know."

His pout was adorable, "You're never going to drop that are you? I told you it was to make you jealous and just confess, and it worked."

"I'm your wife. I'm supposed to hold on to everything that rattles you. Now, hush, and go back to sleep," she grinned, putting a finger to his lips, and then turned so her back was to him. His arms wrapped her at once and his head nuzzled into the nape of her neck, breathing in deeply.

"You try and sleep, too, alright?" he rumbled, already starting to lull off.

"Mm," was her reply as she closed her eyes, hoping she could grant his request.

In some ways, she did. It was fleeting for the most part, but she had flickers of dreams she forgot as soon as she woke. It was enough to have her not feel totally exhausted, but she still sighed dejectedly when light beamed through the curtains, illuminating the room in a dim glow. They would need to get up soon, if only because Diana woke up earlier than all of them for some God-forsaken reason, and the little spitfire would come begging them for attention. She loved it deep down, but right now Catherine wished for some peace.

Sadly, even if her daughter spared them, it seemed their men would not.

It was a far-off echo, but it was loud enough to stir someone from their sleep. Being she was already awake, Catherine knew she couldn't try to sleep again. Ezio was waking up, anyways, groaning softly as another cannon fire went off.

"Really? Is Mario really having them practice so early?" the redhead hummed, reaching up to rub her face.

"It's alright. Needed to wake up, anyways. Diana will be coming soon enough," her husband yawned, turning so he could half-lie on her, nuzzling into her neck.

She snorted, petting her hand through his hair, "You say that, but you're definitely intent on sleeping more."

He huffed, blowing hot air onto her neck, "I haven't gotten to use you for a pillow since even before I left. Let me enjoy this, woman."

"Alright, alright, but I'm fleeing before Diana lands on you," the redhead snickering, kissing his brow.

Another boom echoed, and suddenly the room was exploding.

A cannonball tore right through the walls, striking the pillar supporting the ceiling and letting loose a volley of wood and glass debris. Ezio covered Catherine protectively, holding her close, but then they were both leaping from the bed. The central pillar crumbled, but managed to land on top of itself, keeping upright—for now. Both Assassins made for their gear, Catherine her boots and Ezio a shirt to go with his own pair of shoes. He paused, though, seeing his armor in shambled—an unfortunate victim of the cannon ball. Catherine, luckily, had hers spared, but only slipped on her chest armor and grabbed both her and her husband's swords. She tossed him his, still attached to his belt, and he quickly buckled it on.

"Shit! We have to find Mario and rally the troops!" he rasped, mind whirling.

"You go find him—I'll see to the people. We have to get them and Diana out of here," the redhead barked back, racing over to his side. She nodded to the now opening in their room, exposing the vast, surrounding countryside. It also revealed the massive army coming ever closer. "Take the short cut. I'll get everyone in the house to the sanctuary, and then I'll get the people and what men we can. You've got to hold the walls until then."

"I can do that," he nodded back before grasping the back of her neck and kissing her hard. "I'll meet you in the sanctuary."

"Good. Now, go," she grinned, and then they were moving.

While her husband shot out the room onto the Villa's roof, she flew to the ladder and slid down to the hallway, which she took at a sprint. Already she heard people shouting in the main hallway, and nearly collided with a servant racing by in a panic. Others were running around much the same, save for Caterina, whom came tearing towards her once she saw her fellow redhead.

"My men are the courtyard—I aim to lead them around back and flank the attackers," she spoke and made to go on, but the Lady Auditore grasped her arm.

"Do you know who it is?" she asked, but only got a shake of her head. Catherine released the woman's arm. "Be careful. Ezio's going to help the others fight them back while I get the city out—we have an exit in the sanctuary below. When you can escape, try to go through there. You'll see it when you come back to Mario's study. Otherwise, take to the countryside and find the nearest village you can. They'll help you."

Caterina said nothing, only nodding as she left to rally her own men. Catherine, meanwhile hurried to the stairs, scanning the racing patrons and denizens, whom were already making for the study. Either Annetta or her family would have known to open the pathway, and, sure enough, she saw the book case shifted, revealing the darkened staircase to the sanctuary below. Servants rushed through, and at the opening she spotted one of her nephews.

"Giovanni!" she barked, hurrying to him.

"'Cat!" he called back, grasping her arm. She could see his brow already had a line of sweat, and his breathing a bit haggard, as if he'd been running for miles. There were red stains on his clothes, too. "They came without warning! I barely had time to get here and warn the others!"

"Who? Who's attacking?!"

"The Borgia! With the Papal army! They came just before dawn, under the cover of night. It's a fucking siege armada!" he rasped, his eyes wide with fear. He grasped her shirt a bit tighter as he met her gaze, "We don't have the men to beat them—not now. We don't have enough."

Catherine's stomach dropped, and she could barely hear the shouts of denizens that were starting to trickle in. Her mind worked quick, but not quick enough.

Her fears had come true.

Consequence had caught up with them. So quick.

Too quick.

"'Cat?!"

The redhead's eyes shot to her nephew, desperation in his gaze. He was a man now and a warrior, but he was still so young. Too young. He was scared. Unsure. He must have been there right when it happened—when the wave of red emerged. He'd been with his father and brother, hadn't he? That was why he was here. Ottavio must have sent him. Was his brother still there, too? Were they alright? Had they gotten back okay? Or was Giovanni the only one? How the hell had this all happened in the first place? How could they not have seen them?

She supposed it didn't matter. Not right now. Not anymore. They had to fight and survive this fight. That was the focus. Ezio would rally the men and find a way to keep the Borgia and Papal army at bay, and she had to get everyone out—or as many as she could.

"Stay here, guard the exit. I'm going to get others here," she urged, squeezing his shoulder. The command gave him some measure of comfort, for his gaze grew steadier and he nodded. "Where are your father and brother? Did your mother and grandmother come here? And your cousin? Did Diana make it yet?"

"Mother—I... no, not yet. I don't know where they are, but—but Diana and Grandmother did. Annetta brought them and got them through. She's safe. "And Father... he... he's fighting. He sent me and Federico back to give warning and get the men, but they... 'Rico stayed behind to help while I went on. He... I don't... They're..."

"You did good, Giovanni," she told him, hugging him tightly for a brief moment. She cupped the side of his head, "Now listen: hold fast. Protect this place as long as you can, and make sure you get as many through here as you can. None of the enemy can follow. Do you understand?"

"I—," he began, wavering suddenly, but then become stalwart again. "I understand. Go. Find Mother and Federico. Please."

"I will."

Her nephew having found his courage, Catherine headed toward the entryway, slipping past the panicked and screaming denizens who fled to the sanctuary, hurried on by Giovanni. To her dismay, the main entrance was blocked, the balcony above having collapsed from an earlier attack. She spun on her heel and made for the rear exit, glad to see people were trickling through. She hurried out, and sprinted towards the front courtyard. There, she stopped cold. The smoke hit her abruptly, stinging her eyes, and forcing her to cough as it filled her lungs. Dark clouds covered the cityscape, nearly blacking out the sun. It was almost as if storm clouds had blown in, but lightning was fire burning their precious city down, and thunder was the echo of cannons that burst apart stone and tile. Screams filled the air as thick as the smoke, and although the walls had no fallen yet, the chaos had washed over everything.

Monteriggioni was burning.

Nostalgia struck her, but it was only there for a moment before reality returned and she forced herself to move.

A cannonball soared overhead, striking somewhere behind the Villa. More still came flying over the walls, and down below people were doing their best to avoid scattering debris and the flames that threatened to engulf every home and building. By some miracle, their people had enough sense to fly to the Villa where they could escape through the sanctuary tunnels, which would lead them to the far side of the city—and to safe passage. The army could only come from one direction if it was the Borgia, and the pathway in the rear led to routes in the woods only they knew that would take them to towns and villages they had earned the loyalty of for just such scenarios.

Yet, even knowing that, Catherine could scarcely believe it was happening. Their city was under attack and falling. The Borgia were rendering their near-impenetrable walls defenseless, and she could only pray the main gate would hold until they could all get everyone out safely. But how many had already perished? How many soldiers were stuck outside or shot down from the ramparts? Was Mario out there? Was Ottavio? Federico? Had Ezio gotten to them? And where were Maria and Claudia? They should have been in the Villa, but what if they had left before the assault in the early hours?

Catherine cursed as a cannonball struck the right side of the Villa, nearly bringing down an entire wall. The rest of the building was not faring much better, but it would hold. It had to.

"Quickly! This way! Around the back! Get to the sanctuary!" she shouted to a small group, whom immediately darted her way and then beyond her. She went onwards, jogging to the training area and then the railing on the outside. There, she scanned the city quickly.

There were still many people in the streets. Most looked alright, but others were dirty, either with mud, blood, soot, or a combination of all three. All were rushing to the stairway to the upper levels, for which she was grateful, but it was then she noticed the stragglers. A man whose leg was broken and relying on his wife to carry him. A child, crying next to the broken, bloodied body of her mother. Another man screaming in agony on the ground, his legs pulled to his chest. A woman in tears as she cradled her burnt child. A corpse, dark and red from the fires. Another on the ground, blood mixed with mud, and a wooden beam stuck through their middle. Their soldiers were racing this way and that, while others were along the wall, firing the cannons and shooting what arrows they could. Hot tar was dumped in some spots, and fire shot out, but it seemed to do little. Catherine could only imagine there was an ocean of red among the hills, and she prayed they were doing some sort of damage.

Regardless of her hopes, she had to act. Her people needed help, and so she raced to the city streets. There, she called to those she could, urging them to the Villa. She pulled others from the dead, forcing them to go. There was no point in staying and no time to mourn. She hated the sorrow that consumed them and the screams of despair that erupted from their throats, but she pushed them still. For those that she could not stir or were too weak, she abandoned. She loathed it—loathed herself for it, but she not afford to drag any who truly wished to die or were nearly gone. The living were her priority, and she was only somewhat relieved as she continued to find more and more.

Yet, she had not found sister-in-law. The notion frightened her, but she held strong to hope. The woman was an Auditore. She knew how to survive, so surely she was near the Villa. She knew where to go. Perhaps  she only left to get Federico. Surely that was it. Ottavio she had to know could not be reached—her mind flickered to the battle outside, praying he was alive—but her older nephew might be near, and it must have been to him that Claudia was going. Catherine decided to believe she had made it out as she pulled a man free from debris and sent him, albeit limping, towards the Villa.

A roaring cry pulled the redhead's gaze upwards, and her heart sank. The ramparts had been breached. Among the dark armor of Mario's men was glimmers of red, and despite the darkened sky sunlight glimmered off their blades. Screams filled the air, and she knew men were on the ground, terrorizing the people. She cursed as she made towards them, drawing her blade.

The first soldier came into view, and she thrust her weapon clean through his belly. He gasped, bludgeon dropping, and then fell when she pulled her sword free. She engaged the next Borgia dog, spinning around his broadsword and slicing open his gut. Those were the only two here, leaving her with a very relieved woman and her daughter.

"Hurry! To the Villa! Go!" she snapped, and they obeyed.

Catherine looked to the walls and saw the red was growing thicker. Her comrades were falling back. She looked to the others and paused when she saw white among the rest—her husband. He kicked a Borgia soldier from the wall, and then used his hidden blade to take down another. His gun armament fired, stopping a third in their tracks.

Good. He was fine. She would join him later, though. More soldiers were descending near her and she raced to engage them. She caught the first by surprise, slicing clean through his face. He gurgled, his scream suffocated by blood, and then danced towards the next. He sliced, but missed, and she stabbed through his chest. The third swung and cut through the sleeve of her shirt, but missed the skin. She parried his blade and sliced through his thigh. He fell, screaming, but was silenced with a strike to his throat.

"Bitch!" came a snarl from behind, and the redhead turned just in time to bring up her blade and stop a spiked mace from crushing her skull. The force was too much for her to stay upright, causing her to trip as she tried to turn, and fell backwards. The stones hurt against her shoulders, but the fall threw her attacker off balance, too. She shoved her heel into his chest and threw him aside. She scrambled up just as he did, but he had lost his mace, while she kept her sword. She shoved it up through his chin and into his skull, killing him instantly. She tried to pry it free, but was forced to leap back instead, abandoning her blade, as another soldier came at her. Her eyes flicked to the mace, which she