Title: Yesterday's Feelings
Author: Daisy
Fandom: Assassin's Creed
Setting: Solomon's Temple/Masyaf
Pairing: Altair/Malik
Genre: Angst/Drama
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 493
Type of Work: Drabble
Status: Complete
Warnings: Angst, Implied yaoi/slash/gayness, canon character death
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Summary: Malik's thoughts after Altair's disregard for the Creed in Solomon's Temple.
AN: I really needed to vent to get to a conclusion on something, I think. So, this seemed applicable to my situation, at least a little bit. You help raise someone and they turn into a monster right before your eyes and there's nothing you can do… They ruin what you had and sometimes you can't get anything back. Malik's a lucky one, in my mind, to be able to return to a semblance of what once was. I don't think I'll ever get that chance.
Yesterday's Feelings ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So many thoughts swirled and bucked against one another in Malik's head he felt motion sick, reeling as he collapsed uselessly to the floor of Solomon's Temple. Kadar was whisked from his sight and he was left to die, his arm mostly severed from his shoulder. The Templars probably figured he wasn't strong enough to make it back to Masyaf alive, but he had more fight left in him than a gladiator on his last legs.
The things his mind produced showed Altair in more lights than he'd ever thought to shine on one man. Malik had been present through more parts of the other's life, from the good to the bad to the straight up tragedies. He'd been a comforter, a friend, a loyal companion, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen, a voice of reason, and on occasion a silent lover to the other male… And what had Altair ever been to him?
A bully, a sobbing child, a little brother, a half-attentive lover, and, overall, the driving force behind his need to be better. A good friend, despite what others may think, and maybe it was his anger forcing him to see the negative instead of the positive.
It didn't matter what Altair had once been to him. His cozy little thought of him, Kadar, and himself always being a unit was bust, and all he could find in his mind was a burning hatred, and an unending sadness. It was like there was another death, a prevalent and shocking sort of revelation that the man he had once known, the boy he had cradled in his arms and shushed on those nights when nightmares plagued him was gone. Just like that, that life had been swiped away with Altair's first bad decision on this mission.
Gasping at the pain shooting through his arm as the horse plodded along, he finally had to shift forward, cradling his broken limb to his chest before shooting the horse off at a speed most guards found unnerving. But, alas, he was too late to clean up the gravest of Altair's messes. Robert's men had been too quick for him, his agony at finding his brother's body only slowing him more.
The final break seemed to be hearing Altair claiming he had died to their leader. His fury turned cold and heart wrenching, and as he staggered up the steps to the peak of the fortress, he collapsed.
"All is not lost." Though he had a hard time believing that, himself. The shocked expression on his once-upon-a-time lover's face did nothing to soothe his trembling hand as he handed off the reason for their venture. As he sunk to the floor, the voices around him melded into one, and he knew that he would be grieving for a long time, yet. Not just the death of his brother, but the death of his hopes, his dreams, and his first love.
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