A/N: SPOILERS FOR ASSASSIN'S CREED REVELATIONS, SPOILERS FOR ASSASSIN'S CREED REVELATIONS, SPOILERS FOR ASSASSIN'S CREED REVELATIONS. Need I write it anymore? You've been fairly warned.
I tried to keep both Shaun and Desmond in character. If you find the time to review, please tell me how I did on that. I would love constructive criticism (totally not going to hurt my feelings, I want to improve).
Disclaimer: Does it seem like I own Assassin's Creed? If I did, I don't think I'd be saving up every single one of my paychecks for an apartment. So basically, nope. Don't own it, Ubisoft does.
~Drive Away the Nightmare~
A plague of horrible nightmares every night had taken its toll. Desmond Miles found that he was able to sleep perhaps an hour at a time now, usually less. The Bleeding Effect did still rear its ugly head in his dreams, but now they were varying instances of Lucy's death.
The woman who had been as a sister to Desmond had been murdered in cold blood, by his own hands even if he were possessed by the First Civilization goddess Juno. He could blame the goddess as much as wanted, but it still amounted to the fact that these hands had killed Lucy Stillman, the leader of their rag-tag team.
So what if he did learn where they were supposed to go after his little venture in the Animus to keep his fragmented mind from breaking apart? That wouldn't bring the dead woman back. He'd even heard a snippet of Shaun and Rebecca speaking of the funeral.
His father was so intent on defeating the Templars, Bill never noticed Desmond's discomfort upon awakening from his coma. It was always planning surrounding their Piece of Eden and how it would help them enter the main vault for the much sought after information the Assassins desperately needed.
Bill also didn't notice the discomfort that raged within the remaining group of people who were supposed to work together. Shaun and Rebecca both distrusted Desmond after what happened beneath the Colisseum. They watched him warily - as if he were a wild animal stalking its prey. It hurt. Oh yes, it hurt.
But he didn't blame them. Hell, he'd probably distrust himself, too.
Desmond had found the time to get away from it all. A solitude that he sorely missed from the days before Abstergo, Assassins, ancestors, ancient races and Animuses. Or what is Animi? Well, why does it matter what they're called, he never wanted to see one again.
The suspicious and scathing looks of Shaun and Rebecca coupled with the cold, calculating looks his father gave him had drove him out of their temporary sanctuary to wander the surrounding land - a simple hotel in rural New York. Aware that if he was gone too long, someone would come looking for him, he made the most of his time.
The season was beginning to change from autumn to winter, so Desmond was glad for his hoodie still being able to fit regardless of how emaciated he had become from his long stay in the Animus. His muscles were beginning to build back up after no use, and he was gaining back the weight he had lost, but he wasn't quite back to normal.
Desmond didn't think his comerades were aware of the sadness hidden behind the shell of confidence he had to put on while in front of them. If he didn't, they would eat him alive, of this he was sure. They were just itching to blame him for Lucy's death, which he couldn't blame them for at all. He blamed himself.
During his mental conversations with himself, he ended up standing in a copse of trees a good ways from the hotel but still in sight of it. He would be able to tell whenever they began looking for him.
The Assassin simply needed time to himself, to regain some semblance of the old Desmond.
Time was irrelevant to Desmond as he meditated on the things he had learned in the course of a few months. His life had changed irreversibly, and he found himself becoming melancholy the more he thought of it.
So enraptured in his thoughts, he didn't realize how much time had passed nor how low the sun had sunk. Even as he watched the hotel, he was staring beyond anything in his line of vision. It comes as no surprise that one Shaun Hastings was able to approach the brooding Assassin without his noticing.
"What are you doing out here, Desmond."
It was no question, of that Desmond was sure. More an accusation than anything. He had jumped, now looking guiltily up at the Britishman staring down at him where he sat leaning against a tree trunk. The look on his face was unreadable.
"Thinking." Desmond replied truthfully. There was no need to expand on his answer unless he was asked to.
"I hope you're thinking of Lucy. Of what you did."
Desmond couldn't help the wince those words elicited. Oh yes, he was thinking of how he had murdered his sister figure. He was still trying to come to terms with it, but his mind would not wrap around the situation he was in.
"Are you even sorry?" Shaun snapped, crossing and rubbing his upper arms. With the sun sinking low, the air had turned chilly.
Desmond now glared at Shaun. "Of course I am! I didn't want her to die!"
Shaun sneered. "So you say, but you did kill her, Desmond. For no damned reason!"
Desmond continued glaring at Shaun for a few seconds before something finally broke. The Assassin lowered his head and held it between his knees.
"I know I'm at fault, Shaun... I know this! But you have to believe me when I say I never wanted her dead! It was that damned Apple my father is so enthralled with!" Desmond spat, tears pooling in his eyes as he spoke.
Silence met his admonition of what had truly happened. Why had he waited so long to speak of it? Did he fear that they wouldn't believe him, even after all they had seen? Yet Shaun, Rebecca, Lucy... None of them could see Juno when they were in the temple beneath the Colisseum. Only his eyes could find the goddess, and only he could hear her.
Desmond waited for Shaun to respond. Would he yell in disbelief, continue blaming Desmond? Or would he believe him by some miracle of a chance and not hold him completely accountable for the death of their leader?
Movement to his side startled him. His head snapped up to see the Britishman sitting cross-legged beside him. The look on Shaun's face was indecipherable.
"I've had a feeling for awhile that the First Civilization cannot be trusted. Not implicitly. They have their own agenda they wish to follow, and whether that includes saving humanity or not is up in the air. I can't say that I like them, personally." Shaun turned his gaze to Desmond's teary eyes. "You say the Apple made you kill Lucy?"
"Juno did. She said she was a liability, that the way had to be opened. I... I couldn't do anything, even when I realized what was going on, I couldn't fight her will! She was too... too damn strong..."
His voice fading to silence, he felt the first tear drop down his cheek. He turned from Shaun, angrily wiping at the droplet.
"If the First Civilization is still strong enough to control situations in our modern world..." Shaun murmered. The sentence didn't need to be finished. Desmond was well aware of the possibilities if that were true.
"Shaun, you have to believe me. I wouldn't have killed Lucy of my own free will."
Shaun glanced at Desmond, his eyes glowing brightly. "That's the whole point of this war, Desmond. Free will. No one wants humanity to have free will."
"I know this!"
"Do you? You've been moping ever since you came out of the Animus, that I've wondered if you'd lost sight of our ultimate goal. The freedom and survival of civilization as we know it. We don't want this world to end, one way or the other."
Desmond grew quiet, his heart beating rapidly even as it felt like it had stopped. The end of the world... He didn't want to think of it, didn't want to see the memories Ezio had transferred to him through the Animus. The memories would not stop, came flooding to him in chaotic images and sounds.
Fire, brimstone, glass, shrieking, crying, running, chaos. Chaos everywhere. Fear everywhere, polluting the air just as the smoke of the fires did. Corpses burned into permanent memorials of the people who had once lived on this earth if only they could dig deep enough. The scarring of the land. Zeus' uncaring tone as he explained the experiences Desmond saw.
Above all this, the child's screams rung in his ears like a never-ending echo.
"Desmond!"
Desmond's head jolted up, tears dripping down his face as they were startled from their resting places. Shaun was looking at him strangely, hands on his shoulders. If Desmond knew any better, he would say that the Britishman looked worried.
"Bollocks, Desmond. You're out of the Animus, don't go loony on us now." Shaun muttered.
Desmond shook his head, voice not wanting to work. Shaun continued watching him, searching his face for any hint of what had upset him so.
"Sh-Shaun... We have to save this world. I can't... I can't do it again. I can't live through the end again... The child... That poor child's screams... They haunt me, just as Lucy's death does. I can't sleep anymore, because I see them! I see them all! I feel their fear, and I wake up choking on the screams that want to be let loose. I thought the Bleeding Effect was bad, but this... These memories..."
Desmond couldn't help the ramble of words that spewed from his lips. He'd held in all his fears and nightmares, that when they were finally brought to the forefront he couldn't stop. Maybe he should be having this discussion with Rebecca over the unemotional ass that was Shaun Hastings, but he was here and he needed to say it now.
A sudden movement left Desmond thoughtless for a long moment. His head was pressed to Shaun's chest even as the Britishman's arms wrapped almost protectively around the Assassin.
"So much you've had to go through, in so short a time. I may wish I could have your abilities to knock some sense into you every once in a blue moon, but then I realize you have so much more on your mind."
The hand in Desmond's hair tightened for a split second, causing him to flinch away from the pain. As sudden as the pain appeared, Shaun loosened his grip and began to absent-mindedly stroke the spot he had hurt.
"I am sorry you have to go through all this, Desmond. But know you don't have to go through it alone. Rebecca and I have had discussions on what happened at the Colisseum. We didn't know what had happened, because that was too fast for anything to happen. Even for an Assassin who has had two Master Assassins as ancestors. Know that we've never truly blamed you for her death. We never knew the truth."
Desmond felt a strangled laugh escape his throat. "That's what this whole damn thing is about though, isn't it? The Truth?"
"Stop it, Desmond. If you try to drive yourself insane, I will personally beat the nonsense out of your head."
The harshness of Shaun's tone got the giddy feeling of losing control to recede, and Desmond was able to breathe normally once again.
"Sorry..."
"You don't have to be."
The two men sat in silence for awhile; Shaun watching the deceitful sun make its descent towards the horizon, Desmond listening to the comforting sound of another human being. Neither voiced that their position should be awkward, for Shaun had not removed his arms from Desmond nor had Desmond tried to retreat.
Nor would neither admit they were enjoying the contact. After so much horror, a little anonymous comfort was due before they threw themselves back into the fight against Mother Nature and the Templars.
~kittykat2892