Summary: Lucy and Desmond manage to escape Abstergo before it is discovered that Lucy managed to ruin Altair's memory of the locations of the Pieces of Eden, therefore leaving the Templars with nothing…or does it? Abstergo, as it turns out, had a back-up plan that many didn't know about, one that doesn't include kidnapping bartenders or even the Animus. One problem; they have to find it first. Now it's a race against time as Desmond, Lucy, and the last remaining assassins struggle to protect the one thing between the Templars and the information they need.
2012 Abstergo
She had done it. She had actually done it. Somehow or another Lucy had managed to not only infiltrate the Templar's company and worm her way into their plans without them knowing she was actually an assassin spy, but also managed to save Desmond from a certain death without blowing her cover. And, to top it all off, she had just completely screwed their plans up, all before bed time. Unfortunately, that meant she only had so much time before they figured it out and came for her, and Desmond. That time was quickly running out.
She strode down the hall, carrying a small bag, not wearing her usual white top, black skirt and heels, but clothes fit for an assassin making good of an escape. Though no one gave her a second thought as she passed them, she swore she could feel their eyes boring into her back. Thus, she was immensely relieved when she finally arrived at the Animus room, Desmond's room.
She found Desmond standing at the far end of the room, staring oddly at the floor, which didn't surprise her considering she had a suspicion he had figured out the code to his door a long time ago. However he didn't even look up as she entered, which was odd considering she purposefully made enough noise to alert him to her presence.
"Desmond, what are you doing?" She asked, feeling slightly nervous. Was he starting to suffer from the Bleed Effect? "What are you staring at?"
"What happened to him?" Desmond asked, ignoring her question, "To the other subject before me, I mean."
"What do you mean?" Lucy asked.
"His blood…it's everywhere." Desmond explained patiently, still not looking at Lucy, "In weird patterns and messages…on the walls of my room as well. I can't make heads or tails out of most of it, but some of it makes a little sense."
"Desmond, how can you… how are you…?"
"Able to see it? The same way Altair could see the true intentions of the people around him." He said, "I guess it's like one of those high-intensity lights that makes old body fluid stains glow…I can see the old blood stains."
Lucy's heart slammed into her throat, almost tearing a strangled cry from her. No, not now! It couldn't be happening so quickly, especially since she made sure to give Desmond as many breaks as possible! He hadn't even been in the Animus long enough to show signs of the Bleed!
"How long have you been able to use his eagle vision?" she managed to find her voice, "Please, Desmond…tell me."
"Just after that last session." Desmond answered in that oddly calm voice, finally looking up at her, "Don't get your panties in a twist it's the only so-called symptom I have of the Bleed Effect."
"You've been reading our e-mails, huh?" Lucy said, still a little nervous. She needed Desmond sane, especially now.
"Can't blame me too much." Desmond said, a flash of his old sarcastic tone coming back, "After all, you bastards drag my ass here, without any explanation, and tell me to relive my ancestor's memories, who, by the way, is a master assassin, skilled in the ways of gathering information, and you didn't expect that I would learn how to fucking snoop around to at least figure out what this place is and what you people do? Sorry Lucy, you never gave me much to go by."
"Well, now that you seemed to have learned all these 'master assassin' moves, let's see you do a few. Here," Lucy smirked as she tossed him the bag, "put these on. You are a little obvious wearing clothes with that logo on your front. Also, you stink."
Desmond looked at her suspiciously as he opened the bag and nearly cried out in joy when he saw the clothes Lucy had brought for him. They were his clothes, dark, the way he liked it. How she had gotten a hold of them he really didn't want to think about. They had already delved so far into his personal life that the less he thought about it the better.
"Hang on a second…why are you…?" he asked, suspicious all of the sudden. Damn you, Altair, he thought, I can't do anything without feeling suspicious.
"I did something, Desmond, something that will save us all, but will prove fatal to you and me if we stay." Lucy said, turning her back as Desmond began to strip, "It's time we left, and we need to leave now while the going is good."
"What did you do?"
"Not now. I'll explain everything once we are safely on our way."
"There's a safe place in this world still?" Desmond said sardonically.
"One or two, yes." Lucy said delicately, "preferably as far away from here as possible."
Desmond gave her a long look but didn't say anything. Lucy couldn't help but notice how much like Altair Desmond had become. In the past, he had always had a sarcastic or cynical reply to everything. Now he took everything in silently and coldly, not speaking unless it was necessary.
"Ready? Alright, let's go." Lucy said, still feeling a little apprehensive. She felt like she was walking not with Desmond, but with Altair.
XxXxXx
1191 Masyaf
Ordinarily the feel of the cold night air felt good to him, but tonight it felt like a stinging slap in the face. Altair's world was falling apart around him; everything he had known, everything he had been told, had been trained to do, had been taken from him and ripped to pieces. His own master, the man he had trusted, the one he was supposed to be able to trust, was dead, killed by Altair's own blade. All for a small insignificant silver ball. All for the greed for power that they had fought against for so long.
It made no sense to Altair. Why fight for peace, when all the Piece of Eden would do was take it away by making all the people mindless machines that would readily kill each other for the 'master'? Why throw everything one had worked so hard for, had believed so readily in? Or had Al Mualim really believed in their cause? Had he just been pretending all this time? Had Altair been a pawn for most of his 25 years of life, or just the past few weeks? The past few months? The past few years?
Altair sighed loudly, dropping his head in his hands. Everything was such a mess now; the assassin's had no leader in the time they needed one most, their master had just betrayed them so who was to say they could ever trust each other ever again? To add to Altair's stress, he had the Piece of Eden he hadn't been able to bring himself to destroy to worry about and, the icing on the cake, he had just heard earlier that day that William of Montferrat's son, Conrad, sought revenge for his father's death. Altair let out another frustrated sigh; it just never seemed to end.
"You've been out here for quite some time, my friend." A familiar voice came from behind him, causing him to jump.
"I couldn't stand listening to the bickering much longer." Altair admitted, quickly regaining his composure when he saw Malik coming toward him.
"That I can definitely agree with." Malik said with a laugh, "But then, this is a highly unusual situation so no one is really sure what to do. As you and I have done so many countless times in the past; when unsure of what to do, fight over it."
"We weren't nearly as bad as they are." Altair said sourly.
"I think there are several people who would disagree with that statement, Altair."
Altair glanced side-ways at Malik, whose mouth was twitching from the barely suppressed grin. "Alright, alright, so a few of our arguments echoed around the room, maybe carried down a hall or two…and sometimes the courtyard…oh fine, pretty much the entire fortress, but not for that long!"
"Whatever you say." Malik rolled his eyes, some things about Altair would never change, "Now will you at least tell me what's bothering you?"
"What makes you say anything is bothering me?"
"Really Altair, you're a horrible liar." Malik scowled, "Further more, you're quiet, which could be seen as a blessing but when you remain silent even when someone like Sayid starts getting in your face, there's something wrong. God save us, you didn't even react to it! You've changed, that much I'll give you, but not to that extent."
"Maybe, maybe not." Altair shrugged. He had no energy left to deal with the likes of Sayid, as aggravating though the man might be.
"You're still upset about Al Mualim." Malik stated rather than asked. When Altair didn't say anything he kept going, "You're wondering if you can ever trust someone like that ever again. Hell, you're starting to doubt everything we've ever believed in yourself."
"He used me…like a damn fool, he used me and I nearly brought totally destruction on the brotherhood again!" Altair leaped to his feet, pacing like a caged tiger, "Now we are without a leader and might be in danger from an enemy we really don't want to have."
"We don't even know if that's true or not so don't worry about that." Malik said, unperturbed at his friend's outburst, "Second, he used us all. Need I remind you, for the forty six thousand and two times, that it was I who brought back the God damned treasure? No, shut up and listen!" he snapped, seeing Altair open his mouth to argue, "At least I'm getting some sort of response from you. Yes, you screwed up, but we all do at some point. Yours just happened to have more of an impact that most. But it's done, it's over with, you've obviously learned from it, thank God, so put it behind you. The brotherhood is disorganized and we need someone like you to remain strong now more than ever."
"I already told you…"
"Yes I heard you." Malik sighed, "And I agree with you. Can you imagine yourself as master with your organization skills? It would be a nightmare. No, you are better off in the field where you can put your skills to good use. Look, let me worry about the politics of the brotherhood. I know you hate it so act as my 'left arm', so to speak, and let me know what's going on around us. We can't afford to be vulnerable now."
Altair nodded, feeling far more at ease. Malik had always been the more patient one, more able to deal with politics. Altair couldn't stand it and would rather be force-fed his hidden blade than play the political game. However, he still had one nagging thought on his mind.
"What about the Piece of Eden?" he asked.
"What about it?" Malik asked as he rose to leave, "If you can't destroy it, than at least hide the damn thing. The bottom of the gorge sounds good."
Altair took a big breath and let it out, dispelling the last of the tension from his body. As he did so, his mind quit jumping from one thing to another, allowing him to clearly view his situation. Malik had asked him to protect the brotherhood during their vulnerability. He could do that, and do that well, and he wasn't about to let anyone down this time. He already had one rumor in mind that he intended to prove or refute. But first…
Carefully he pulled the Piece of Eden out from his belt pouch, turning it over in his hands. There was another piece of advice he intended to follow.
XxXxXx
A/N: This story was written around 4:30 in the morning on Sat. Sept, 13. I say this because I was writing this out old school with my trusty pen and notebook…even more old school; it was written by candlelight (that's right, I said candles) because I had no power thanks to hurricane Ike. Altair, Malik and OC became my best friends while I listened to 80mph winds hammer my window. In fact, I was so scared (and a little bored after the storm was mostly over and I had no power) that I pretty much have most of the story written, it's just a matter of getting it from paper to computer and fixing some mistakes I made in my hasty, scared shitless writing. Any-who-how-ways, tell me what ya think in review form (nudgenudge winkwink)
-Vanillathunder215
