Summary: Altair can't forget what he was forced to do to his master and he can't cope with it, who will come to save him. Rated M for Angst, self harming, attempted suicide. Eventually Altair/Malik

Disclaimer: I only own a copy of Assassin's creed not the rights to it. I make no money from this story so I can't lend any to anyone.

To the bitter end

Bold: Peoples thought

Altair stared blankly at the ceiling. Voices echoed in his head, the voices of the dead. He closed his eyes, trying to still the phantoms that whispered in his ear. He was an assassin; he killed people everyday without a second thought so why did these ones haunt him? Was it because they believed themselves innocent, believed that what they did was for the greater good or was it because of HIM? Was his death the reason he was haunted? Was his death the one he couldn't forget? The one he couldn't bear to face for fear of going mad? Unasked for his eyes flashed in Altairs' mind, his quickly fading eyes and his blood covered face. Altairs' eyes snapped open and he sat up on the bed. Why was he haunted? He had done the right thing. These people wanted world domination, wanted to enslave the people and he had stopped them, all of them.

"I will miss you, Altair. You were my very best student."

Yes he was haunted, he would never forget and it was killing him. Every night he was visited in his dreams, replaying the last moments of his master. He had taken to not sleeping, wandering the halls of the Masyaf fortress or simply walking through the village, visited by memories of dead friends long gone.

"What could I possibly fear? Look at the power I command."

"Master."

Altair was torn. Al Mualim had been his master, the person he had trusted the most, he had known more about Altair than anyone. He would have done anything for Al Mualim, killed anyone, sacrifice everything for him, for the brotherhood, but their master had betrayed them. Altair had tried to convince himself that the man he had killed hadn't been his master, that his master had died as soon as he had set eyes on that 'piece of Eden'. How long ago had that been, before Altair had even known his master, before he had even become an assassin? His masters' betrayal had cut through him sharper than any blade could have. His master had been the only person that Altair had ever opened up to; he'd trusted his master with everything, all his secrets and then he'd had that trust repaid in betrayal, being used like some puppet in an elaborate play all for his mentor to gain power.

Altair felt like weeping, every day and night his masters death was replayed before his eyes, his final moments tormenting him forever and Altair was beginning to feel numb to everything else apart from the pain he'd caused to his victims, he needed to feel again, anything even if it wasn't pleasant. He curled up into a ball on his bed and felt one solitary tear run down his cheek. He needed to feel but no one knew that Altair was quickly falling apart.

---

Malik cursed. The piles of paper in his former master's room were gigantic and it was his job to read all of them. It had been months since his masters death and still more secrets were beginning to come to light. He had exiled Altair from the room since he thought that his friend wouldn't be able to handle some of the truths that had come to light. Malik had hated Al Mualim for what he had put Altair through but now, after some of the things he had read, he wished that he had been the one to run his blade through his throat.

"What's this?"

A small, red leather bound book was the next item on the pile, this instantly grabbed Maliks attention as all the other documents had been pieces of parchment with his master's cursive writing on it. Malik took the book down from the pile, opened it and began to read.

Altair came to see me today, the foolish young boy was actually asking me for forgiveness. What an idiot, he trusts me with so many of his secrets never realizing that when the time comes I can hang them over his head and threaten to tell the people whom he loves about the real him.

The real him? What the hell does that mean? Malik decided to ask Altair about the later and carried on reading.

One day, when the time is right, I will bring his world crashing down. He will be my ultimate servant, no mind of his own and no self-confidence or independence left to give me any resistance, I wish that it did not have to be this way but I will crush anyone who seems to be a threat.

Malik had finally decided that this was Al Mualims journal and that it could hold the secrets to why he had turned against his brethren. Malik was about to take it to Altair to show when he decided against it, if Altair saw what the master was going to do to him it might bring his entire world crashing down.

But if what Al Mualim says is true and Altair really did trust him above all others it must have really hurt him when he had to kill him, maybe I should go and check just in case.

Malik put Al Mualims diary down on the table and quickly stood up. Some of the other Assassins in the room looked at him confused as he walked quickly around the table and down the stairs, heading for Altairs room.

---

Altair was still lying on his bed. He stared at the ceiling as the voices of the dead continued to haunt him. He had curled into a ball on the bed, holding onto his head trying to will the voices to leave him be. Al Mualim, Robert De Sable and all the other people he had killed in his life were whispering in his ear. He thought he could hear faintly below the shouts the sound of a knock on the door and his name being called out faintly. The screams overrode it though and he began to scream with them.

"STOP PLEASE STOP!"

He couldn't take it anymore, he had to feel more than madness, he had to stop the voices. He put the wrist with the hidden blade attached against the other, shut his eyes and activated it. The blade pierced his wrist and he screamed in pain. Blood rushed over the bed sheets dying it red, he pulled the blade out and screamed again as more blood ran from the wound. His eyesight began to dim and he felt his eyelids go heavy. Before he slipped out of consciousness he heard an almighty crash and the sound of someone screaming his name.

Please R and R, no flames thank you.