Hey all! Juno57 here! Sorry for the delay in all of my other stories, exams have taken over all of my spare time :( I decided enough was enough, et vóila, a one shot for DesXLucy :p Tell me what you think, hopefully you like this, I have never tried anything this… uh… descriptive(?) yet XD. I was sorta in a depressing mood, so this story is a little darker than my usual stuff! This pairing seriously needs some stories, and I really wanted a distraction from exams. Also, if I get enough comments/ reviews I could, if you want, turn this into a two shot, or more :P Lemme know, and I will deliver :P

Disclaimer: Duh, this is rated M for a reason, kiddies need not apply! There, you've been warned. Also a bit fluffy at times, cuz' I loves me some cuddle time :3

As usually, Ubisoft owns Assassin's Creed, yadah yadah, enjoy and review!

Rebecca watched her screen with caution, ensuring the ejection sequence was executed properly. Desmond stirred in his position, as his mind returned to 2012.

"Get up slowly."

"Ughhh, " Desmond inhaled sharply as he sat up in the Animus, struggling to blink back the pulsing white bloom behind his eyes. The first 10 seconds were jarring, back arching, eyes flying open; the feeling of your head being cleaved open with an axe. Memories that didn't fit, trying, failing more so every time, to fight the feeling that you were in the wrong time period: that you didn't belong here.

"There ya go. How was it?" Rebecca asked, leaning back in her chair, legs crossed at the ankle.

"Are you actually close to finding anything yet Desmond?" Shaun quipped.

Desmond pinched the bridge of his nose, trying still to separate the voices and faces in his head still swimming in his consciousness. "Uh…can we save this game for another time? I think I need to lie down for a bit…" his voice echoed softly off the walls of the sanctuary.

Lucy glanced up from her computer screen, a pale blue light exposing the worry growing on her face. From her seat she watched Desmond trudge by, able to see the cracks in his resolve exposing the raw fear and pain underneath. She sent a glance to Rebecca, who merely shrugged in response. Lucy pulled open her email, multitasking between following Desmond's path to his sleeping bag, and composing her message. A particularly loud groan from Desmond snatched her attention completely from her keyboard. She rose slightly, ready to offer assistance should he need it, however, Desmond waved her off, ensuring her that he 'was fine'.

Lucy sighed internally, How long until history repeats itself? Literally.

After what had happened with Subject 16, she could never ignore the signs; she had punished herself too much after the fallout to forget. She could pretend in front of the others that she didn't care about his occasional errors; a mistaken name, the odd change to Italian or Arabic in the middle of a conversation. She could pretend in front of Desmond that she was merely correcting him for simplicity's sake. But she could never convince herself that he wasn't slipping further every day, too far gone to turn back. She lowered her head, trying to collect some form of rationale to face this. As much as she hated doing this to Desmond, she couldn't bear to imagine what would happen if she didn't. A world in ordered chaos; free will dead to the tyrannical reign of the Templars. If they failed, if the Assassin's failed, she would die believing that it was her fault. There was no doubt in her mind it was her fault, for everything.

Prevent Desmond from losing his sanity, the world pays.

Save the world, and Desmond becomes a nightmare- plagued schizophrenic until he finally succeeds in quieting all the voices… even his own.

A no-win situation

Lucy sighed deeply, getting up from her desk and walking toward the Sanctuary's exit to Monteriggioni.

"I uh, I think I'm going to go for a walk…" she said, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Okay," Rebecca said without a glance up from her screen. Shaun let out an unintelligible grunt Lucy could only take as meaning, 'whatever'. She glanced at Desmond's sleeping form as she tiptoed past, straining to let him hold on to the precious few hours of sleep he could catch.

Desmond allowed a minute to pass before he opened his eyes. A pang of guilt and pity washed over him as he thought about all the extra efforts Lucy makes for him. Literally and figuratively, she was always on her toes, walking on eggshells to make sure he slept enough, ate enough, took the useless pain meds to patch his head back together. She was so concerned for his safety that she refused to see the signs: if she did, she disguised it well enough that he didn't notice. Just another effort to protect me. Desmond knew he was slipping: he had asked, jokingly, how long it would be before he started painting his walls red. The harshness of Lucy's answer had somehow closed the subject for him; although he knew she wanted him to talk about his concerns and well-being, he didn't think he could burden her even more with the frightening severity of it all. Not a day passes without a vision, some sort of memory fragment. Ezio, Altair, hell, sometimes something residual from 16. But I can't tell her. I can't tell her anything.

Desmond slipped out of his sleeping bag, following Lucy's footsteps out of the Sanctuary. He glanced over his shoulder; Shaun and Rebecca sat either unfazed or oblivious to his departure. Not even a word from those two. He mused. His vision switched involuntarily to Eagle Vision, Desmond paused for a moment, both allowing himself to adjust to the inverted colours, and to reflect on the fact that he hadn't initiated the switch. Fuck.

Desmond shook off the sickening thoughts of his eventual loss of sanity, and followed the gold trail in front of him. Lucy. Something had definitely been off about her lately, something…dark even. She sat at her desk from the moment Desmond woke up, to the moment he got out of the Animus at the day's end. She rarely even spoke anymore. Can't even remember the last conversation we had. If I didn't know better, I'd say she's avoiding me. Avoiding everyone. Are all teams as dysfunctional as ours?

Desmond shivered slightly as he exited the shelter of the building into the dark, cold night. He zipped his hoodie up fully, and hoisted himself up the Villa Auditore's wall, following Lucy's path. Halfway up, his vision blurred, and faded to black.

"Shit!" Desmond slipped from the ledge he was clinging to, scrambling to find purchase. His fingers only brushed against the slick glass of the ornamental window above the water fountain. What the fuck is going on? Desmond's mind screamed, he shook his head, trying to restore his vision before he hit the ground. His shoulders took the brunt of the fall, slowing his momentum slightly before he knocked his head off of the water fountain's retaining wall.

"Arrhh Fu –" Desmond panted, as bright white flooded in, eventually fading back to normal. Shaken, sore, and unnerved, Desmond rose shakily, holding his arms out for balance. He touched the side of his head, cradling it from the impact it had just received. He winced at the pressure, and retracted his hand, coming back bloody.

Lucy sat perched on the very top of the Villa's roof, surveying the mountainous land and the troubled sky all around her. In the distance, faint lights of the city twinkled, somehow making her feel even smaller and isolated than she already was. She sighed and hugged her legs closer to her chest, bracing against the shivers wracking her body. Her thin leather jacket was doing little against the night's chill, and nothing against the despair inside her. Human contact was something Lucy craved. She was a tactile person, although only to those who knew her as a friend. Part of what hurt her so much when she looked at Desmond, was that she saw what she was doing to someone she loved. Lately it had grown too painful to hear him come out of the Animus, too much for her to see the anguish in his eyes as he asked for more medications to stop the pain. How could she go on like this? Pretending to not care had hardly ever been an option. It wasn't who she was to let someone suffer. If an animal is in pain, and nothing can be done to alleviate it, what do you do?

You put it out of its misery.

Several times she had thought about jumping. Would it be high enough? How would the others take it? Was it selfish? What would Desmond do– who would look after him? She squeezed her eyes shut, again, trying to forget the sadness on his face; the pain of a man pushed beyond anything he should have to endure. She stood at the edge of the roof, looking down to the seemingly distant cobblestone beneath her.

Desmond shook himself, bushing the remnants of dirt from his white hoodie with his clean hand. He began to scale the wall at the rear of the Villa again, moving quickly in case he should suffer another blackout. He heaved himself up onto the roof, scanning around for where Lucy might be. His gaze stopped at the pile of rope and stone blocks at the base of the lift leading up to the precipice of the Villa. Desmond walked to the side of the wall, finding his grip on a window ledge. He pulled himself up onto the roof, breathing hardly laboured by the effort. There, at the other edge of the roof, stood Lucy. She stood perfectly still with her back towards him, toes on the edge of the roof. Desmond took in the scene before him, his tone betraying the growing fear that matched his realization of what he saw.

"Lucy?"

She stood, unfazed at the edge, still gazing at the yawning depth beneath her.

"Go back inside Desmond." Lucy's voice resonated with an eerie tone, too calm for the situation at hand; ironically like someone trying to talk someone down.

"Lucy? What are you doing out here? How about you turn around, nice and slow, and we can talk," Desmond slowly approached her, carefully traversing the roof tiles. The last thing he wanted to do was make any sudden movements. That's what you try to avoid in a situation like this right? Don't want the person to jump. Is Lucy going to jump?

He stood just over an arm's length away, not yet close enough to reach out.

"Just, don't… don't do anything you'll regret, ok? Just step back–"

Lucy suddenly whipped around, her face a disturbing mixture of utter chaos still trying to be contained under a false mask of control. Her mouth was a wavering line that mirrored her racing pulse.

"Regrets? That's what you want me to think about? Don't do anything I'll regret?" Her voiced stung Desmond with the loathing tone. "The only thing I regret was not ending things sooner! "

Desmond balked, horrified, the shock of her words punching into him like a hammer.

"Do you know what my life has been like the past few weeks Desmond? Hell. Absolute HELL!" Lucy had taken a step towards Desmond, jabbing him in the chest to punctuate her sentiment. "I can't face a new day without knowing that it can only be worse than the day before. You couldn't possibly imagine what it is like for me to watch you every day slip closer and closer to the edge of your mind, yet I have to be the positive one; I have to look into your sad puppy dog eyes and lie to your face!" She had turned her back to Desmond, looking again into the far off horizon, her voice a softened whisper, "And I just can't do that anymore."

"So it's my fault then, is it Luce? Because of me your life is a living Hell?" Desmond's face slowly contorted with the pent up anger and pain, "Well I'm sorry that you feel that way– I'm sorry that I am such a fucking burden to you!"

She turned to face him, yet remained at the edge of the roof, "Don't you understand Des?" Her face looked tired, eyes that usually sparkled in their blue depths had faded, reflecting her weariness. "That's it– it's killing me everyday to know that this is how you feel: this," she moved her hands to imply something she couldn't articulate, "…this feeling. And I can't do it any more Des… not to you, not to the team, and not to myself. I just… it's too much. There's nothing more I can do Desmond, no exercises or techniques to slow the process down. Your mind is a runaway train running out of track. And this conductor wants off." Lucy smiled sadly, convinced in her solution to her predicament. "It would just be better if I… left…" she said, her voice trailing off into the night wind.

"So what, you're just going to leave me here with Shaun and Rebecca?" Desmond took a step towards her, feigning humour to try and relieve tension, "Don't leave me here with those guys– you know Shaun's a dick, we'll probably try to kill each other." Desmond smiled half-heartedly.

Lucy took a step back, preparing herself for the jump. She closed her eyes and murmured to herself, "Nothing I can do…" Falling from her eye, a tear landed on the worn terracotta roof tile, splattering softly.

Desmond closed the distance between the two of them, turning her around, and drawing her from the roof's edge. He felt her shivering underneath her thin jacket, and the reluctance in her eyes to match his gaze. He lifted her chin slightly so her eyes would meet his; brushing her tear away with the soft pad of his thumb, "Don't give up yet Lucy. I haven't." He smiled softly, urging with his eyes for Lucy to do the same.

"I… honestly I just… just want…" Lucy paused staring in front of her blankly, struggling to put together a coherent sentence.

Desmond pulled her in closer, rubbing her arm with his thumb where he held her. The close contact splintered the last door holding back Lucy's tears. She sobbed unabashedly into Desmond's chest, allowing him to hold her like she had needed him to weeks ago.

Desmond rested his chin on Lucy's head, inhaling in this perfect moment, and the soft scent of her hair. They remained in their embrace, hungry for the contact: neither wanting to break the fragility of this moment, their moment. Lucy's erratic sobs had quieted into soft gasps; her fingers kneading the material of Desmond's now dampened hoodie. Desmond eased them both down to sit on the roof, far enough back from the edge to be sure that nothing could happen.

Lucy gazed up into Desmond's warm gaze, her own reddened eyes reflected in his golden brown eyes. He smiled at her, gently bringing his nose down to meet hers, nuzzling slightly. He heard her inhale abruptly, thinking that perhaps he had pushed her too far, given what had just occurred. He started to pull back from her, when he felt a feathery weight press against his lips. He opened his eyes, looking down at Lucy, feeling warmth spreading across his cheeks. She gazed up at him, a light smile on her lips. Desmond ran his thumb across her cheek, feeling the warmth rising underneath her tear-stained cheeks.

Something had changed in her eyes, something that appeared, for lack of a better word, hungry. Desmond moved closer to her, taking her gaze as the only invitation he needed. He pulled her towards him, their lips connecting more deeply. Lucy moaned and settled herself onto his lap, gladly leaning into his embrace. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth, nipping it slightly, demanding entrance. Slightly amused and surprised at her eagerness, Desmond avidly obliged her, parting his lips. He beat her to the punch however, slipping his tongue into her mouth, revelling in the sensation he had longed to experience. Lucy moaned in the back of her throat as she felt Desmond's tongue connect with hers. Both started to realize how they had both been aching for this to happen, as their actions became fevered and impatient. Desmond soon felt the effects of Lucy sitting on his lap, especially as she began undulating her hips, impatient for Desmond to move against hers. One particularly strong tilt prompted a throaty groan to rumble in the back of Desmond's throat, Lucy paused, startled at how affected he was by her movements.

"Lucy…" Desmond panted against her neck, his tone husky and urgent.

Lucy looked down at him, her eyes half lidded. She gasped as he sucked her neck, his tongue hot and wet against her throat. Desmond could feel her pulse racing under the ministrations of his tongue. Urged on by her pleasure, he trailed his tongue down her neck until he reached the juncture of her collarbone and neck. She reached up, pressing his head in closer to her neck, craving for more. Intent on leaving his mark on her, Desmond continued sucking and biting her skin, debating whether the sounds she was making, or the feeling it was giving him, was more pleasurable. He slid her jacket off of her arms, throwing it behind him. Lucy smirked at his eagerness, deciding to do the same with his. She moved to kneel in front of him, and gently shoved Desmond back so he was resting on his elbows, looking up at her, surprised at her boldness. He watched her with widening eyes as she proceeded to take his hoodie's zipper between her teeth, gazing at him wantonly as she pulled the zipper down, running her hands all the way down his chest as she went. He groaned throatily as he felt her chin and mouth brush over the front of his jeans, further stimulating his arousal. She grinned at her success, running her hands along his hips, teasing him by slipping her fingers under the hem of his pants. Desmond had thrown his head back at this point, struggling to produce some coherent sentence, only coming up with breathless, half-formed curses.

Emboldened by Desmond's state, Lucy unzipped his jeans and slid her hand under his underwear, wrapping her fingers around his member. Desmond groaned her name; thrusting his hips in earnest. She was more than happy to indulge him, moving her hands, listening to his whimpers. She leaned up to him, kissing him languidly, running her tongue over his lower lip. Desmond pulled her down over him, running his hand down her back and pushing her hips against his. Lucy pressed a hand in between their bodies, and, with a smirk against his lips, started to run her hand lower and lower. Desmond grunted, finally having had enough of Lucy's torture, he grabbed her waist and flipped her over on her back, straddling her hips, grinding his against hers. Lucy's eyes fluttered as Desmond resumed licking and sucking her neck. He took this opportunity to slide her shirt up her body, gazing down at her as she helped him get it off.

"Are you sure you want to do this Lucy?" Desmond breathed as he helped her out of her jeans, "Cuz' we don't–"

"Desmond please," Lucy panted, pulling his shirt up and off, "I've wanted this for a long, long time… ever since, well, ever since I saw how much you needed me." She said, tugging at his jeans.

Desmond smirked, "And when was that Lucy?" He started stroking her hips, fingers reaching lower to her panties.

Lucy's breathing hitched in her throat, "S…Since Abstergo." She was losing herself in his touch, in the vision of his bare form over top of hers. She felt her pulse quicken as she became enraptured by the contractions of his abdomen. How long had she waited, longed to touch and taste those muscles? She gazed under heavy lids at him, "You looked so lonely, and I… ah… uhnnn!"

Desmond thrust into her, leaning his head back, eyes closed: taking in the wave of pleasure washing over him. He paused to let Lucy adjust to him before rocking his hips against hers.

"…Des…"

Desmond kissed Lucy softly as he pulled one of her legs over his hip, allowing him to thrust deeper. Lucy's hips drove up to meet his, urging him to quicken his pace. As their movements and grunts synchronized, they realized just how lonely the past few months had been. They were solitary in their passion; the two Assassins', soft moans and whispered names the only sounds in the quiet of the night. Time was short, but they made it last, taking in every moment, as they knew it might be their only chance.

Soon Lucy found the warmth spreading in her lower abdomen transform from a dull ache into a much more potent throb. She gripped both legs firmly around Desmond, holding tightly onto his powerful shoulders. With each thrust, she felt her vision blur, more so every time. Desmond had his forehead buried at the side of her neck, listening to her increasingly laboured breath. He had pulled her hair out of the bun, enjoying the feeling of her loosened blonde locks brushing against his face. Desmond felt Lucy's grip around his shoulders contract, her nails leaving indents in his skin. Her thighs were locked around his hips, and Desmond knew she was close.

Her moans became louder, her tone urgent, "…uhn..Des… I think… I'm ugnnn…" Lucy gripped Desmond's shoulders, straining to pull herself closer to him as she hit her climax. She writhed and bucked under him, finally allowing the white-hot wave of euphoria carry her away from her problems. Desmond was not far behind her, and felt the maddening effects of her climax tighten around him. He soon followed her into the whiteness, driving into her one last time until he felt his own release. They remained together, grasping onto that indescribable feeling for as long as they could, until they were forced to return back to reality. Desmond lifted himself off of Lucy, lying on his back beside her. She slowly lifted herself off the roof, flopping down onto Desmond's chest, completely fatigued.

Desmond kissed her forehead, brushing her hair out of her face, as she was obviously too tired to have done so herself. She was languidly tracing invisible shapes on his chest, captivated by the rise and fall of his chest, her mind contented to listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat under her ear.

Suddenly remembering the circumstances under how they got up here, Lucy tried to broach to topic, "Des…" she lifted her gaze, "I… I'm sorry for –"

"Don't be. You were pushing yourself too hard." He smiled down at her, pulling her tired form closer to his, "It's completely unnecessary and not expected of you to run our entire group by yourself. That's why we're a team. Maybe now you'll let me help a little more, hmm?"

"What do you want me to let you help with?"

"For a start, we could sleep together more often…"

Lucy slapped him playfully, smirking, "Des! Really? Is everything with guys about sex?"

Laughing, Desmond shook his head, "Well, it was only a half-hearted suggestion. Though, I would totally be up for it." Lucy smiled into his chest. "I dunno, maybe fill me in on what goes through that head of yours: stop pretending that everything is okay when it's not." Desmond propped himself up on his elbows, looking at her earnestly.

"I guess it would be nice to have someone to use as my personal psychiatrist," she winked at him, "maybe you'll return the favour? None of this 'I'm fine Lucy, really' business, okay?"

Desmond leaned forward giving her a slow kiss, pulling her head forward by her chin.

"I'll take that as a yes?" she smirked.

"Mmm hmm"

They soon had to dress again, the chill of the night air still blowing strongly under the unsettled sky. Lucy stared off into the distance, taking in the faraway lights of the city once more.

She hugged her arms around her, trying to warm up, " It's weird… when I look at those lights, something about them makes me feel so small and helpless." She gestured around them, "In all this darkness, there's hardly any light."

Desmond walked up to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and resting his chin on her head. "I think they remind us that even in all this darkness, there are still a few pockets of light out there. Although they may be small and weak, look how far they reach out."

Lucy turned in his arms, smiling up at him, "Wow Des, I didn't know you were so philosophical! What deep thoughts you have in that brain of yours. "

Desmond kissed the top of her head, smirking at her jibe, "Alright Luce, looks like someone needs to go to bed."

"And what exactly does that mean?" she said, laughing.

Desmond just grinned at her, and held out his hand to help her down. Lucy followed Desmond back towards the entrance of the Sanctuary. They both took the others' hand as they walked down into the Sanctuary, renewed in their strength and well equipped to face the onslaught of whatever awaited for them tomorrow.

Yay! Phew that was fast! I don't think that I have even written this much in any other chapter of my stories, let alone a spur of the moment one-shot :P Once again, lemme know if you want more, or what you thought, please be kind, as this was my first… intimate fanfic :D Comment or fave, you guys are awesome!

Stay lovely,

Juno57