Welcome to the first chapter of Eden's Twilight. This the second installment of the Desmond/Isabella story. I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you think! I know I just finished Heaven Only Knows yesterday, but this chapter came out so easily. It was nice that it did. I want to thank everyone that read the first part. It was great to see the numerous reviews that everyone left. That was my main reason for continuing the story.

Nearly a year had gone by since she had seen his face. Nearly year since she had heard the sound of his voice, and felt his touch. Now, just a few months after the birth of their son, Collin Ezio Miles, she found out the horrible secret that her brother had been hiding from her, and that was the father of her son, was still alive somewhere in the world. All she wanted to do was kill him slowly, and take pleasure in the fact that he knew why he was dying, but abandoning those malicious thoughts, all she did was give him the tongue lashing he deserved.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Isabella Bellucci growled as she advanced on her brother, his green eyes wide in what she could only describe as fear for his life. "You know you're an ass."

Seth Bellucci held his hands in the air as his sister stalked towards him, and he was thankful she had no weapons on her or around her at that time. "Sis, we all thought it for the best. When it all came out on who fathered your son, we all thought it best to keep it from you and not get your hopes too high. I mean, he's been out there for a year."

Snatching him by the collar of his shirt, she drug him down to her level. "You had no right! None of you did! You should've told me when you found out." She was beyond mad. The malicious thoughts began to resurface, and it took everything she had in her not to turn his head around backwards, and end it right there.

But a hand grabbed her arm, pulling her back from her only living brother. Damien Bellucci, her father, held on to her, preventing her from tearing Seth to small pieces. "He was only doing what he thought was right, Izzy. You should understand that. Isn't that why you didn't tell us about your adventure into the past?"

She turned away from him. "It's not the same."

Her father chuckled. "Oh but it is, honey. You just don't see it. You didn't tell us because we would have labeled you insane…" And she added under her breath that they already thought her that. "And he hid this piece of information from you so that you wouldn't lose what we thought was left of your mind. And I am sorry to say, I knew shortly after he did."

That caused her to spin around, sending a glare in his direction. "Oh nice! You knew as well!" Throwing her arms in the air, she looked at her mother, Sarah, who was holding onto her only grandchild. "The next thing you're going to tell me is that you knew."

"Sugar, we only wanted you to get better, not worse. Your father told me after he found out, only to get my option on the whole situation. I was the one that told him not to say anything, and I threatened your brother with bodily harm if he so much as breathed a word of it to you." She took a step towards Isabella, keeping the child between them.

It was enough to make her want to abandon her whole family! "And to think, if I wasn't so damn gung ho to get back to all of y'all, none of this would have ever happened. I would be with the man I fell in love with, raising our son the way he should be raised, and my life would have been damn near perfect. But noooo, I had to come back to my family, lost my mind for a time, lose my son's father, and then get secrets kept from me because you thought I was going to lose my goddamn mind even more!"

The three of them looked at her, standing in the middle of the living room, shoulders heaving in anger. Seth was the first to speak. "Sis, I know it was rotten of us to keep it from you, and I'm really sorry, but we couldn't go at this half-cocked like I know you would have. Now, are you going to calm down, and help think of some places that they may have taken him?"

"And what makes you think I know anything?" She asked as she took her son from her mother. He was the only thing that kept her calm most days. "I was their captive, not their damn VIP guest. I don't have a clue as to where they would've taken him. If I did, I would be out there right now trying to find him."

Truth be told, she wasn't holding out high hopes of him coming back. If he had been their captive for almost a year, and hadn't found a way out yet, then how in the hell were they going to find him with the limited resources they had? It just didn't look promising, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she still held on to the slight almost miracle chance, that they would find him alive and he would come back to her. Be a father to his son. A son that he didn't even know he had at this point in time.

"Isabella, you have Collin to look out for now. Leave this up to us, and stay here with him. If there is a chance, we will find him. Hopefully in good health." Her father stopped in front of her, and touched the soft downy hair that graced the top of her son's head. "You have to calm down, and think with a rational mind."

She glared at him. "I thought I lost my mind when I came back, remember?" She sneered and began to walk towards the stairs that lead to her room. "If you need me, I'll be upstairs." And with that being said, she let her feet carry her up to the room that she now stayed in most of the time.

*/*/*/*/*/*/*

He heard the snow crunch under the thick boots he had procured on his exit of the facility. They were a half size too big and the coat that he pulled tighter around his body was too large as well. Night had descended on the white landscape, causing more shadows to appear and his mind to wander. It had been nearly a year since he had seen anyone he knew. A year since he had seen the real light of day, and the moon that hung in the sky. A year since he had seen her.

Did she think him dead? Had she moved on with her life? Was she still the woman that he had fallen in love with so many years ago? Questions upon questions ran through his head as he walked down the snow lined streets of Moscow. They thought that if they got him out of the country and away from everything that he once knew that he would not dare to run, but how wrong they were. He bolted the first chance he got. It took some work, and a trail of bodies in his wake, but for the first time since he woke up almost a year ago, he was free.

A bench came up on his right, and he took a moment to rest. It had been a long walk from where he was to where he had come from. Resting for a moment felt like heaven, and as he leaned his head back against the building behind him, he let his eyes drift closed for second. She was there to greet him when he did. Her smiling green eyes brought him comfort in the months that he plotted and schemed to be free. She was the only thing that got him through, and he was not going to stop until he was back in the States.

"You are going to catch your death out here, young man."

He opened his eyes to see a woman standing there, her weathered face watching him from under the layers of her hood. "I've survived worse." He spoke up, and almost jumped at the sound of his own voice. It had been some time since he spoke, and it almost caused him to forget what it sounded like.

The old woman clicked her tongue. "Americans. Think you can come here and brave the cold of Mother Russia. I have picked so many of your countrymen out of the snow for being stupid." Her heavily accented English made her hard to understand, but he managed.

That statement made him chuckle. "Why would you do that? Pick them out of the snow, I mean?"

"I do not enjoy stepping over frozen bodies when I venture out to the store. So, to ensure that does not happen, I make sure that your people are warm enough before I send them on their way." She pointed to the building that he had rested his head on. "It is a drop in center for the lost and weary. Are you lost and weary?" The truth be told, he was, so he nodded. "Then come in and get a bite to eat, and warm yourself. Then, you will be fit to travel once more."

Maybe fate had guided him to this place, or it was a trap set for Abstergo to catch him once more. Either way, he really didn't care at that point because sitting on that frozen bench had caused his backside to grow cold, and frankly, he really hated the cold. "Thank you."

She waved him off. "I do not want to see you dead by morning from sitting there. Seen too much of that in my years." Turning, she walked back to the door, and standing, he followed behind.

The warmth hit him first, causing a shiver to run though his body. He must have been colder than what he first thought, but he began to thaw out quickly. The woman hung her coat on an antique coatrack at the door, and he did the same. "Thank you again for inviting me in. I haven't been here long."

Grinning at him, she hobbled towards the back, and he could see now that her back was hunched with age, and her movements were stiff. "Then you have picked the wrong time to come see the sights. Winter has been set in for some time, and everything that holds beauty in this city has been under snow for months. You should come back in the summer. Much more to see, and not nearly as cold."

Laughing, he walked with her. "I'll take that into consideration for the next time I visit."

"That is good to know. Maybe I may not find you half-frozen on my doorstep the next time." She gestured to a small table in the room that they came to. "Sit and warm yourself. I will put on some coffee." She walked over to the counter. "I am Tatyana."

"Desmond."

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

William Miles rubbed the spot on his forehead where he felt a headache coming on. Between trying to keep up with what was going on at Abstergo, and trying to find out where Desmond was being held, again, it was enough to give him the largest headache he had ever felt. Damien had called some hours ago and told him Isabella's reaction on the news. It didn't shock him at all. She took it better than he thought she would.

The cell phone to his right went off, startling him out of his thoughts. Picking it up, and looking at the number, he didn't recognize it, but that wasn't uncommon these days. Everyone had different numbers than what they did a few months ago.

"Hello?" He answered, and listened to the breathing on the other line.

After a little bit of static, a voice that he thought he would never hear again came over the line. 'Hey Dad.'

"Desmond." The name came out in a breath, like he couldn't believe that his son was calling him. "Where are you?"

'I…I rather not say, just in case.' And he knew what he was saying. 'I wanted to let you know I was out, and trying to head your way.'

"I can make that happen." There was nothing that he wouldn't do to finally bring him home. After some time, and a little help from a few people, he finally saw what kind of an ass he had been to his son for so many years.

'I know, but I think I need to do this on my own. They're still looking for me, and I'm not going to get anyone else involved in this.' Desmond sighed on the other end. 'I do have a question. Did you get my message?'

Leaning back in the chair, he switched ears. "Yeah, I got your message. That was really brilliant by the way."

A small laugh. 'I had to get it out somehow. It was the only thing I could think of at the time.' Then he paused for a minute. 'Did you contact Isabella?'

"I talk to her about once a week, but she wasn't told until a few hours ago. Her parents were worried about her having another breakdown." William didn't know if he should tell him about Collin, so he kept that knowledge quiet for now.

'A breakdown?'

"When she came out of the Grand Temple, she went insane. They nearly had her committed to a mental hospital, but she's better now. Starting to readjust to life again." It was killing him inside to not say something, but that was something that he would have to find out from Isabella herself.

'Look, I need to get off here. I don't have many minutes on this phone. When I get another I'll call, but can you do me a favor?' Desmond asked and he could hear cars in the background at that time. 'Can you give me Isabella's number? I…I just want to hear her voice again. You know, let her know I'm alright, and see how she is.'

A smile crossed his face. "Sure son. Whenever you're ready." And told him the number when he said to. "Desmond, before you get off here, I just want to say, I'm proud of you."

'Thanks Dad, that means a lot.' And the line disconnected.

He hoped that would not be the last time he heard from his son.

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

Looking at the phone, he sighed and slide down the wall of the alley he was in. It had been a week since his escape and this was the first time that he had found time to call anyone. Tatyana had given him a few rubles and directions to another place that could help him. He had told her that when he arrived, he had been mugged and the men stole everything. It was the best lie he could come up with on a moment's notice, but she bought it. He had two choices that this time. Start moving out of Russia, and try to find a way home, or begin to fight Abstergo here. Really, the only thing he wanted to do was see Isabella again.

Desmond looked down at the screen of the cell phone he had bought with the money he either stole or bummed. The battery was getting low, and he was running out of places he could go to charge it. Besides, he would have to throw it away soon. He couldn't risk them finding him again. He didn't want them to find him once more. It had been a year of hell.

First they kept him in a coma for months on end, letting him weaken, so he couldn't fight back. Then, when they brought him out of it, it was hours upon hours in the Animus, rummaging through his ancestor's memories, trying to find anything that they could about the Pieces of Eden and anything he knew that would help them. He was thankful that he knew how to fight them on certain things, but there were places that they got from his head. Places that would lead them to other places, and maybe that could get them somewhere, but he wasn't sure.

"You should call her."

He looked up to see Ezio standing there, a smirk on his face. The assassin had become his constant companion, along with Altair, Connor, and Clay. They were there, giving him advice, keeping him from slipping into complete madness. But he knew it was all in his head, even though he could see them. The Bleeding Effect was getting worse, and he knew what was to follow. His descent into total madness was imminent, but at least it hadn't happened yet.

It was them that pushed him to build his strength back up, and to break free. Constantly pushing at him like they had done in life to their assassins. Well, all except Clay, who sat in the background and laughed at them. "Go away Ezio. I'll call her when I'm ready."

"Looks to me like you're too big of a chicken shit to do it. What? Don't want her to know that you're certifiable?" Clay cackled from his place on a trashcan nearby.

"I'm not crazy." Desmond muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and sulked like a small child.

The modern assassin laughed again. "Sure you're not, Dessie. You talk to four dead men, who only you can see. Yeah, you're not crazy. You're a goddamn raving lunatic!"

"Lay off, Clay, he's having a hard enough time with this as it is." Connor took a seat next to him. "Ignore him, Desmond. Do what you would like to do."

Looking at the Native American, he shook his head and exhaled. "You do know that's he's right? I am losing my mind."

"And that is what everyone thought I had done when I stayed locked up with the Apple for many days on end, trying to decode its secrets. You must prove to them that you can overcome, and endure." Altair leaned against the building opposite of him. "You are not so far lost that you cannot come back."

Desmond snorted. "I am talking to four dead guys, and a few of you have been dead for a few hundred years! No, I haven't lost my mind, not in the least."

Ezio laughed. "At least you still have a sense of humor about it. A weaker man would be drooling on himself, or writing things on the wall in blood when they descended as far as you have." And gave a pointed look at Clay.

"Now wait just a damn minute here!" The man in question shot to his feet. "I had to get a message out, and that was the only way to do it."

"Uh huh, keep telling yourself that. You also hid messages in the Animus for him to find. You really didn't have to write in blood. That is just strange." Connor also joined in.

The three of them began to squabble amongst themselves, causing the headache Desmond had been feeling to throb back to life with a vengeance. All he wanted to do was walk away, and hopefully leave them behind, but they were a part of him. The part that let him know that he was slowly, but surely losing his mind.

Looking down at the phone again, he sighed, punched in the numbers that were written on the palm of his hand, and waited on baited breath as it began to ring. One ring… two rings… three rings… and finally someone answered. 'Hello?'

Isabella's voice flowed over the line, and his hand shook. What was he going to say? He thought about hanging up, but clearing his throat, and a nod from Altair, he spoke. "Isabella?"

The line went silent, but he could hear her breathing on the other end ever so slightly. 'Des…Desmond? Please tell me I'm not imagining this?' Her voice wavered and cracked, as if she didn't believe this was happening.

"I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to get in touch with you." A smile spread across his lips, and for once, his world was silent. The other four were gone for now, and it was just him and her once more. "I missed you so much."

A hiccup and a small laugh. 'Same here. How did you get this number?'

"My dad. He was the first one I called when I got a chance to use a phone. I asked him for your number because I needed to hear your voice again. Make sure I hadn't made you up." He felt like crying. There he sat in a dark alley, his ass going numb from the frozen concrete, and she was so far away.

'I'm here, and I'll talk as long as you want me to.'

"What time is it there?" He asked, just trying to find things to say.

Laughing, she answered. '3:46 AM.'

Now he felt bad. He should have thought about the time difference when they were a half a world apart. "I should have waited so I didn't wake you up."

'Des, don't worry about it. I was already awake. I couldn't sleep. Where are you? I want to come get you. I can leave in the morning, and you can be back here sooner. I want you to meet someone.' Her voice grew soft, and he became afraid that she had met someone.

"I'm not really up to meeting people, and I can't tell you where I'm at. I will get there soon. Hopefully." And that was saying a lot, because he had no money, no food, and no way to get home, but he wouldn't put her or anyone at risk for him. Not again.

Isabella sighed into the phone. 'You really need to meet him. I wish I had known when we were in Italy together. It might have a changed a few things, but that's said and done.' She paused and he could tell she was looking for the words.

"You're not engaged or married, are you?" That news would kill him. The memories he had of his time with her were the only thing that kept him going sometimes. He was in love with her and nothing in the world was going to change that.

She actually laughed at that last question. 'No, not at all. Desmond, what I wish I had known then was, I…I was pregnant. We have a son together.'

And it was as if someone sucker punched him right in the gut. He had missed so much, and the one thing that he missed completely was that. He had a son with Isabella. Oh holy hell.

He must have been too quiet because her panicked voice came over the line. 'Desmond, are you still there? Please damn it, talk to me!'

"How…how old is he?" It was the only thing he could think of, when his brain began to process what she had just told him.

'Almost six months. He was born July 17th. Eight pounds, six ounces at 8:22pm. He looks like you with his brown hair and brown eyes. The only thing he has from me is his pale skin, but that could change. I wish you could meet him.'

Something on the street caught his eye. A large black SUV pulled down the road slowly, as if looking for someone, or something. His voice dipped low. "Isabella, I have to get off here. I think they might have found me. Look, I will call you in a few hours. If I don't, please don't get mad, and look for me. I will find my way back to you. I swear to it."

'Where are you, Desmond? I swear I'll come get you. I'll get Mom to watch Collin. I'll come alone. You don't need to do this on your own anymore. Let me help!' She was crying and he could tell. He wanted to do the same.

And doing something that he swore he was not going to do, he told her. "I'm in Moscow, Russia. I will call you in a few hours and we can talk more then." A car door opened, then another. The SUV had stopped and men began to file out. They had figured it out. "I need to go."

'Be careful, and I love you.'

That was something that they had never said to each other. "I love you too." Hitting the end call, Desmond slipped the phone in his pocket, and pulled out the small knife that he found in an abandoned cabin not far from the compound. Like hell he was getting caught again. They would be dead before he was ever brought in once more.

"You need to get out of here." Connor spoke to him as Desmond watched the men look around the area. "You are out-numbered."

"I'm tired of running. I want this to end." He growled and gripped the knife tighter, feeling the old wooden handle bite into the callused flesh on his palm.

"And you're not going to do it today." Altair growled back, stepping into his line of sight. "You have allies, and it would be better to get them than to do this now and get hurt. You have a son you have to think about. You do want to see him, correct?"

The man was right. He wanted to meet his son, so he nodded. "Yes." And loosened the death grip he had on the blade.

"Then get moving." Ezio chimed in.

And as quietly as he could, Desmond slipped into the darkness, away from the men that hunted for him.

*Smiles* The daughter of Eve will be brought in next chapter. This one was becoming long, and I had to save something for the beginning of chapter two. Well, Desmond now knows about his son, and is going crazy. Isabella is now hatching a plan to rescue him from Russia, and William has let go of being an ass. All in all I would say it was a pretty informative chapter!

Preview of Chapter Two

Victoria Bettley shook her head as she pulled the hood farther over her face, hiding her features from the surveillance cameras outside Abstergo Entertainment. It wasn't the wisest thing she had ever done, but there was only three people in this world that she could talk to in this world about what was going on in her head. William Miles, but he was so far out there with his own agendas that she wouldn't ask him. Desmond Miles, who had been dead for a year, and then there was Shaun Hastings, the resident history nut that knew most of the things about the Assassins, Templars and the First Civilization.

And that was why she stood in the rain, head bent down, hiding from the cameras, and waiting for the man to make his exit from the building. And he did not disappoint. Exactly five minutes after he was scheduled off, she watched Shaun exit the building, coffee in one hand and umbrella in another.

He must have seen her, because that was direction that he headed. Holding out the coffee, she took it with a small nod. "Rebecca said you needed something from me?"

As they began to walk down the street, she sipped on the contents of the cup, wishing it was a bit sweeter, but the espresso spoke to her. "Yeah, I need some help identifying some symbols." She spoke up. Asking for help was not in her area of expertise. Normally, if she couldn't figure it out, it was to hell with it, and give it to someone else. That wasn't the case this time. This time it was in her own head, and in an Animus session she had once done.

"Do you have a drawing of said symbols?" He asked, coming to a stop at the edge of the street. The light was green and so they stood there, waiting.

"Yeah, I have them." Opening up her jacket just far enough to get her hand into it, she pulled out the small slip of paper and handed it to the historian.

Unfolding it, his eyes scanned the symbols. "What you have here is First Civilization runes. I don't know the exact translation, but the closest I can get is it talks about the first assassins, Adam and Eve."

"I know the story." Tori rolled her eyes. Her father had told her the whole history of the Assassin/Templar war over and over. She probably knew it better than even the man beside her.

"Well don't get snippy with me. You came to me for help, and I am taking a big risk even talking to you, Tori. If anyone from Abstergo finds out who you are, you are dead and I will be detained, questioned, and then killed." He began to walk when the walk light lit up. She followed beside him, scanning the area for anyone that seemed to be watching him. Her sixth sense had never let her down, and she relied heavy on it now.

"Sorry. As you were." Her dead pan voice spoke out from under the hood.

He snorted, but did continue. "They were the first to remove an Apple, a controlling device from Eden. That was where the story of the Garden of Eden was derived from. It was them taking that first Piece of Eden that started the whole thing."

"But what do these symbols mean?" Tori pointed to the paper, careful not to drip water onto the black ink.

Shaun looked down at them again. "The first one is the sign of Eden." He laid his finger on the swirling lines. "The second is for hybrids, meaning Adam and Eve. They were the first ones after all. The third…" His voice trailed off and he pushed his glasses higher up onto the bridge of his nose. "That is one I am unfamiliar with. I can do some research and try to figure it out, but that's about all I can do."

It was have to be enough. "That'll work. I just want to know what they mean."

Turning a corner, they stepped under an awning, and Shaun closed his umbrella for a moment. "Would you care to tell me why this is so important?"

She had never told anyone about her dreams, or sometimes nightmares. "I see them sometimes. In the dreams I have been having since I was a child. In the last year, they have been getting worse. I don't know why, but I want to find out what they mean."

The historian merely nodded his head. "I can understand that. Well fine, I will help you out under one condition." That was what she was waiting for. "Tell William to get me out of this place. I have been languishing here from months now. This is below my knowledge. I should be hunting out secrets of the Pieces of Eden, or studying ancient relics of the Firsts, not playing barista to a bunch of Abstergo idiots."

For the first time in a good while, she actually laughed. "I'll see what I can do, but for now, just keep this between us. I don't want people to think I'm some whack job like Seth's sister. Pining over a dead man. She needs to move on."

Wrinkling his nose at her. "You haven't heard the news have you?" She shook her head.

"I've been kind of out of the loop for a few months. With Abstergo wanting me, and my father's passing, I haven't been around much." That was putting it mildly. She had been so far underground that she almost could pass as a creature of the night.

"Desmond is alive. He buried a message in that file you retrieved for William. They have been looking for him since."

"I checked him for a pulse. He was dead. He looked dead." That was something kind of scary. If he was alive, did Abstergo have the ability to bring people back from the dead?

Shaun shrugged. "I don't know, but he's alive." Snapping open his umbrella once more, he inclined his head. "I'll be in touch and I hope you talk to William for me." And with that, he walked down the street, leaving her standing there under the awning, too many things running through her mind to sort out.