Summary: Desmond isn't one to stand aside when he can take action. So he just kind of ends up helping out people stuck in bad places and well, if he breaks a few laws along the way, who will judge him? So when one Clay Kaczmarek, his go to guy for fake IDs and other more major hacker jobs, vanishes, Desmond is there to track him down.

Or the story of how Desmond unintentionally starts a new Brotherhood and messes up Abstergo's plans all while just discovering the whole "Assassins vs Templars" thing is more than just a story.

This is so self indulgent, I don't even know anymore. So here I am, joining this fandoms 10 years late with this.

I've been trying to find some modern day brotherhood stories and couldn't find too much so I decided to write my own.

This story is also dedicated to the amazing CescaLR whose story "In Another Universe (Maybe we were Happy)" is basically the reason I sat down and actually wrote this in the first place.

In my files, this story is saved as "accidental crime lord desmond". Do with that info what you want.

That's enough from my side, enjoy!

If asked, Desmond would undoubtedly declare Monday mornings his favorite time of the week. After all, it was the first morning after a hectic weekend at Bad Weather, where he could rest for as long as he wanted and sleep until it was nearly midday. He didn't have to be the alert bartender or manager; if he wanted to, he could be just another lazy New York City citizen.

Unfortunately, old habits die hard, and Desmond had never been the unproductive kind. If there was a job to do, he would get it done. Sure, he might complain a bit about it, but he'd finish it. And while Monday was technically his free day and his own to structure, over the years he had dedicated quite a bit of it to other people. The first few minutes after he had gotten ready for the day, Desmond would spend with one Elisabeth Smith and her two children.

The young mother had moved into the apartment at the end of the hallway of Desmond's floor just two months ago. By now the kitchen, living room and the room of her children were fully furnished. The mismatched arrangement of colorful second-hand furniture, as well as the kid drawings lying around everywhere, added a warm atmosphere to the previously bleak rooms.

Desmond knocked on the door, the first two times fast, the last two slow and a second after his hand had disconnected, the door was ripped open by two exited nine-year-olds.

"Morning, Desmond! Mom's in the kitchen, do you want pancakes? We were still eating. Did you see the drawings we made yesterday?"

The two chatterboxes kept talking a mile a minute, seemingly not taking a single breath between sentences.

Sarah, declared the younger one by her brother, was feeling particularly brave today and even took Desmond's hand as she led him into the kitchen. Her brother Max, meanwhile, elaborated on the family's plans for the day. In a hushed voice, he told Desmond that the big kids upstairs had promised to take him on the roof this afternoon.

Desmond tried to recall if they had fixed the fence surrounding the roof yet and vowed to ask Alex and their roommates later. If the teenager had decided to entertain Sarah and Max for an afternoon, they could also take responsibility for it. As they entered the kitchen, the twins immediately sat down at the table, attempting to outtalk each other.

"Let the poor man take a breath," Elisabeth told her son and daughter good-natured, though her smile was still too forced to be entirely genuine. Nevertheless, she looked a lot better now, less tired, less haunted, but cautious still.

"It's no problem at all," Desmond replied. After weeks of daily visits, he was used to it, and kind of enjoyed it as well. There was something very calming about seeing exited children after they hadn't dared to come out behind their mother's legs the first days of knowing him.

"I just wanted to ask if your new IDs came in yet?"

Elisabeth shook her head. "Ah- no. But they should have, right?"

Desmond frowned, recounting the days since his order. The new IDs should have arrived a week ago already at the latest date. It was unlike Kaczmarek to be late at all, especially miles away from the agreed-upon deadline.

"Yeah, definitely. I'll go check why they haven't arrived yet today, I promise."

Elisabeth relaxed visibly, the tension in her shoulders decreasing. "Thank you, Desmond. For everything."

"It was no problem."

And that pretty much summed up Desmond's attitude towards everything he did in life, mainly helping other people out. He didn't necessarily consider it to be outstanding work he was doing. He was only trying to give back a bit of the kindness he had received upon escaping the Farm. He could have ended up everywhere, Desmond was well aware that he had been lucky to be taken in by Bad Weather's owner. Even though Desmond would like to claim that it was his winning smile and charisma that had charmed his boss into giving him a job, in reality, it was probably the owner's worry and pity for a sixteen-year-old cult runaway with next to no identification.

"Will you join us for dinner tonight?" Elisabeth asked, pulling Desmond out of his thoughts.

"Sorry, not today. Alex roped me into cooking for the teens tonight."

The teenager insisted on weekly homemade dinners for reasons Desmond couldn't claim to understand. He was a terrible cook, alternating between spaghetti with tomato sauce, pizza, soup, random vegetable mixes and an ever growing amount of scrambled eggs for five years now and yet, like a clock, Alex and the other teenagers living upstairs ate with him every second Monday.

His expiration must have shown on the outside as Elisabeth tried to cover up a laugh with a cough and failed miserably.

"Have fun tonight then!"

"Thank you. I just hope I can get them all out before they fall asleep in my living room again."

"That wouldn't be too terrible though, would it?"

Desmond opened his mouth, but no witty reply came to his mind. Instead, he settled for the truth, and the fondness he really kept within himself. "No, it wouldn't be terrible at all."

They exchanged a few more words and the twins showed him their new drawings and then Desmond was on his way upstairs to the group of teenagers residing here. Currently, six names were written on the chalkboard on the door, Alex's of course at the very top. Desmond knocked again and waited for a high-pitched "Coming!", followed by an even louder "Shut up!".

Such was the morning of a teenage residential community. A lot of music, laughter and screaming. It had definitely been one of Desmond's better ideas to put them at the top of the building where they wouldn't wake up everyone else at hours nobody should be awake.

The door opened and Alex, wrapped in a bright red towel, hair still wet, greeted him with an enthusiastic hug.

"Good morning, Desdemon!"

And here was to hoping he'd outlive that nickname someday.

"Good morning to you as well, Alex."

With a sigh, Desmond stepped into the apartment and made a beeline for the living room to give Alex a chance to finish getting dressed. For all that teenagers were supposed to be a messy bunch, the living room was surprisingly clean. Sure, a few things were lying around, but it didn't look like a tornado had decided to party inside of it.

After a few minutes had passed, Alex returned, wearing a hoodie Desmond faintly remembered belonging to his wardrobe.

"So what can I help you with today?" They asked. "Do you want me to set anything on fire? Did my Dad call again?"

Alex smiled like they didn't have a care in the world and if their voice hadn't cracked on the second question, Desmond wouldn't have thought there was anything off.

"No, I don't need you to set anything on fire. Keep your pyromaniac tendencies to yourself, or I'll throw you out."

Alex had the audacity to snort at Desmond's very real and very serious threat. "I know, I know. You've been saying that for four years but I have yet to see proof."

"One of these days it'll happen. Anyway, I was wondering if post for Elisabeth or me arrived?"

The teenager shook their head, eyes lingering on the blackboard hanging on the door to the living room. Almost illegible scribbles were written on it, and some notes, as well as letters, were stuck to it.

"No, nothing arrived beside the college acceptance letter for Jack- ah shit!" Alex cursed some more, looking incredibly guilty. "Pretend you didn't hear that! He was going to tell you tonight! Dinner's still on, right?"

Alex acted like these dinners weren't a well-established tradition Desmond cherished quite a lot, even if his cooking skills didn't show it.

"Dinner's still on. Keep an eye out for the post, please. It's crucial."

"Will do, boss!" Alex mock saluted, earning himself a half-hearted glare.

"Alright, see you later then. I'm going out."

"Have fun!"

Desmond wasn't sure if his Monday activities classified as fun in the general understanding, but he enjoyed them regardless. Even though he would prefer them without the stress of his three newest residents being not as protected as he wanted them to be. Maybe he should just check in with Kaczmarek himself? It wasn't like the man lived too far away. Sure, Kaczmarek would probably be offended that Desmond had looked up where he lived and pretended not to know for almost three years now but Desmond paid well enough that Kaczmarek would forgive him.

After all, he had financed most of the man's tech so doing some basic background checks on him weren't too far out of line. It was a habit Desmond couldn't shake off.

As much as Desmond resented his upbringing, it was hard to get sixteen years of paramilitary cult education out of his system. And if Desmond didn't overthink that and focused more on the people dependent on him keeping track of certain individuals, he could ignore the guilt and anger just fine.

He would have enjoyed being able to simply look at somebody without immediately assessing them for weaknesses and dangers or whether they were an ally or enemy. And as useful as his growing skill in such detection was, he could have done without the headache coming with those blurry flashes of color he had to learn how to interpret. Working as a bartender had been a great help in that aspect.

Remembering that his medicine cabinet was almost out of aspirin, like so often nowadays, Desmond decided to do his grocery run sooner than later. He'd check in with Kaczmarek now, buy his groceries afterward, and by then it was probably already time to start cooking for the brats.

He quickly returned to his apartment, grabbing a jacket and his bag as well as the keys for his bike. On his way downstairs he was greeted by Jenny and Christine, who were just returning from work.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah, boring dudes, boring night," Jenny answered with a yawn.

"Mhm, can't wait for my bed. See you later, Desmond," Christine added and pulled Jenny, who looked ready to drop and fall asleep right there, along further up the staircase.

Desmond smiled at the two's antics and continued on his way downstairs. In the entrance hall, he checked the mail once again, hoping that despite his lousy feeling Kaczmarek issued IDs could be found there. Unfortunately, only empty postboxes greeted him.

Had it really been too much to ask for this to be simple? The last two IDs Kaczmarek had gotten him had barely taken a week, and the quality had been well above what Desmond had expected.

Already tired of the day, Desmond left the house and headed straight for his bike parked just a few meters away from the door. He had gotten the used bike a couple years ago, and it had been love at first sight as. It had been worth every dollar. Never mind that taking the taxi or the bus to work had been annoying and exhausting as hell.

The drive to Kaczmarek's apartment took barely twenty minutes. It was located in a somewhat shady neighborhood, and nobody batted an eye at another stranger. Desmond entered the apartment building easily enough and walked up the staircase, thinking of what he should tell the other man.

That was when things started to get strange. A flash of red hit Desmond's vision as he took another step forward, immediately alerting him. He hadn't figured out yet how to actually consciously activate his gift, it just always seemed to spur into action when he was in danger.

Red footsteps lingered on the floor, though they seemed days old already. Carefully Desmond moved forward, hyper-aware of his surroundings. He could hear his heartbeat and his blood rush through his veins. It took all his concentration as well as well memorized breathing techniques to focus his sight on the outside world and reduce all observations of his own persona, even though his ability seemed to affect much more than just his vision. His senses expanded while the mechanisms of his own body disappeared entirely from his awareness. The silent steps of the cat in the apartment to his right were just as loud as the pacing of the woman one story up.

Alright, he could do this. He only needed to follow the red up to Kaczmarek's home and hopefully not get ambushed by the people responsible for the colors staining the gray.

The further Desmond got, the more did his anxiety rise. He expected attackers in every shadow he stepped into, yet he was greeted by none and soon stood in front of Kaczmarek's door. He made short work of the already abused lock; somebody had definitely already broken into the apartment.

He opened the door and was greeted with even more red, but also specs of light blue and bright gold. Chaos ruled the entrance to the apartment and followed the crimson trail into the living room where it ended. A few drops of dried blood lingered on the floor, but not enough to make Desmond worry about finding a corpse stashed away somewhere. Whoever had jumped Kaczmarek had been fast and not above drawing blood, but definitely wanted Kaczmarek alive.

Great, just what Desmond needed: a freaking crime scene.

While he doubted that the neighbors would notice the disappearance of Kaczmarek, the apartment still might be watched. He needed to be quick. Following the gold, Desmond picked up a backpack with Kaczmarek's laptop, a tablet and a phone as well as some papers that reeked of forgeries. Between those papers, he also found the IDs he had actually come for. He'd get all of that home first and come back for a proper investigation later. Preferably with back up. Whoever had come for Kaczmarek, it probably hadn't been for his technical equipment – maybe they needed only his genius?

Either way, Desmond would figure it out. Kaczmarek was a nice guy. Sure, a bit strange and sometimes it was hard to follow his thought process, but nevertheless, he was totally alright in Desmond's books. A little illegal activity didn't make anyone a criminal, especially when it only harmed those who deserved it or could stand it. His teenagers' music library indeed agreed on the later.

So, Desmond would figure out what happened to Kaczmarek, and he would find him.

Thanks for reading!

Given that this will be about the modern brotherhood we all know Desmond derserved to have, there will be OCs. Besides the ones already introduced here, maybe 3 more. I know, a lot, but I promise some of the canon modern day cast will also appear. Backstory on this Desmond and his situation will uhh come next chapter?