So I clearly don't own Assassin's Creed, or anything related. Ubisoft owns those things, and I only own the plot for this story. Plot, and nothing else.

Desmond sat up from the Animus, head spinning. She - well, Ezio - had just finished a very pleasant conversation with Leonardo when they were attacked by Templars. It had been a huge struggle to give Leo the time to escape, to hold the Templars back long enough to ensure his safety, but she - no, not her, Ezio - had done it, and even managed to win the fight with minimal damage. Desi appreciated this; the Animus made everything feel so real, every little bump and scratch. Desi actually knew what it felt like to be stabbed with a sword, to be shot. The Animus made everything feel so absolutely real. It was one reason why it was so hard to keep Ezio and Altair separated from herself.

"Hey, Des, you okay?" asked Rebecca. Desi shook her head to clear it.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just… been a long day, you know?" Rebecca smiled wryly.

"Yeah, I know. I saw what happened there. He had some great skills, am I right?" Desi actually laughed. God, at times like this, it felt great to have someone like Becca. A friend who was just so absolutely normal.

"Oh, totally. You should hear the way he thinks - thought, I mean. It's just a huge, testosterone-fueled 'Grrr face' moment." The two girls laughed. Lucy, however, didn't miss Desi's slip of the tongue.

"Desmond, what year is it?" she asked suspiciously from across the room. Desi sighed at the use of her first name.

"Twenty-twelve. I know, Lucy. And stop calling me Desmond. I hate that name. Who names their girl Desmond, anyway?" From his seat in front of the tack board Shaun rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come of it, yeah? It's just a name. There's nothing wrong with the name Desmond. It's not like you haven't turned it into a perfectly feminine Desi. Really, complaining over a name?" The blonde Brit rolled his eyes again. Desi flipped him off.

"Hey, screw you, too, Hastings. How would you like it if your parents named you Sarah or something? Don't you sit there and tell me you'd stand to be called Sarah."

Shaun huffed indignantly. "I'll have you know, I'd just go by my middle name."

"Yeah, because can't you see me going by James? At least Desmond can be Desi. James becomes, what, Jay? No thanks." Desi slid from the Animus, making sure she didn't sway or anything. When it was clear that the room wasn't suddenly going to tilt sideways, she turned to Shaun.

"Now. Anything else you'd like to say?"

Shaun opened his mouth to respond as Lucy cut him off. "Come one, guys. Leave it alone for the day. Let's just everyone go to bed, and we'll all be in a better mood tomorrow." Shaun looked like he was ready to argue on the principle of the thing, but Lucy's glare silenced whatever protests he had in his head. Desi shook her head and went to her room, if only to hide her fear.

Desi didn't want to go to bed. She didn't want to go to sleep. Because she couldn't sleep, not anymore. Her nights were haunted by the memories of Altair, Ezio, even ancestors she'd never been. Swords, guns, fighting, killing, bleeding, hurting, dying.

At first, she had tried to let everyone else go to bed before her. Then she could sit in the sanctuary and pretend that she had slept. But that had only lasted for so long before Lucy noticed, eagle-eyed as she was. So Desi was forced to be the first to bed, to avoid the questions and whispers, avoid anyone seeing her tremble with fear. She didn't let anyone see her weaknesses, anyone. She couldn't afford it.

Sighing, Desi changed into her pajamas and crawled into bed, pulling the blanket up to her chin and curling up defensively. Dread it as she did, sleep found its way to Desi's mind after a few hours, and her eyes slipped closed.

Shaun

Shaun ran a hand through his short blonde hair, exhausted. Desmond and the girls had gone to bed long ago, leaving just the computer and him. By now his eyes were burning and bleary, and he removed his glasses to rub at them. The task bar at the bottom of the screen told him that it was 3:18 in the morning.

"Well, mate," he yawned in self-satisfaction, stretching, "I think you've done enough for one day, yeah?" Shaun put his glasses back on, shut down his computer, and hobbled to his room. Once inside, he stripped out of his clothes and put on a pair of lounging pants to sleep in, wanting nothing more than to collapse onto his bed and sleep. His head had only just touched the pillow when the screaming began.

Shaun bolted upright, heart racing. Who was that? Another cry shattered the quiet and he ran to his doorway, looking around frantically for which girl was in distress. A third scream had him running to the farthest room down the hall, Desmond's room. As he neared he realized he could hear broken pleas and terrified mews between the screams.

When he opened her door, Shaun stared at Desmond, unsure what to do. When she had hallucinations during the day, a few words and a hand on the shoulder would bring her back. This was clearly different. Desmond laid on her left side, knees drawn to her chest, dark hair splayed wildly around her face. Her right hand gripped the sheets under her chin so tightly her knuckles were white. Her left arm was extended out across the bed gripping the blanket so hard Shaun could see the tendons straining in her hand. Another scream ripped its way through her throat, and this close it vibrated everything in Shaun's head. The scariest part was the look of mingled pain and fear on her face.

Unbound irritation broke out in Shaun. He didn't particularly like this Desmond girl. She was infuriating, always rubbing him the wrong way. Now she was keeping him from his much-needed sleep with, what, a little nightmare?

He was brought back to situation at hand when Desmond's jagged murmuring broke into English. "No… I don't know, I swear…No!-" Another scream escaped her, waning into shattered whimpers, and now Shaun saw that she was trembling, covered in a cold sweat. Shaun had no choice now.

"Hey, Desmond," he said, crossing the room and placing a hand on her shaking shoulder. "Come on, now. Wake up." When that had no effect, he crawled over her - God, what am I doing? - and sat on the other side of the bed. He gently pried her straining fingers away from the blankets. Instead of relaxing, they clenched into a fist so tightly Shaun wondered if they drew blood. He scooted closer to Desmond and shook her.

"Oi!" he said firmly. "Get up!" Desmond's eyes flew open, dark and wide and wild, and she scrambled away from him as fast as possible. With a cry of alarm she tumbled over the edge and onto the floor, tangled in the sheets and blankets. Shaun crawled over to the edge and looked over. As soon as she saw him, Desmond tried frantically to escape from the trap of cloth.

"No!" she whimpered, holding her arms out to keep Shaun away. "Not again! I swear I don't know where it is." Her voice wavered pitifully. A pang of concern shot through Shaun and he dropped to his belly on the bed, resting a hand on her ensnared foot.

"Desmond," he consoled. "Desmond, come on. It's me, Shaun. You know, computers? History? The one you annoy the ruddy dash out of?" She stared at him for a moment before whispering, "What?"

"You know me. Come on, get back into your bed." He reached his hand out to her hyperventilating form, and she looked terrified. He sighed and climbed down to sit next to her feet. She watched him with wary eyes.

"Come on, get to bed. I'm tired, you're tired, we both need sleep. Let's just pick ourselves up and -" Shaun was caught off guard by Desmond launching herself at him, her arms locking around his neck so tightly he wondered if she would strangle him. She trembled against him, her breathing ragged and shallow, making tiny little whines with about every other breath.

Shaun had no idea what to do, and part of him was irritated all over again. He wanted nothing more than to get up and go to bed. He didn't want to be sitting here, holding a terrified girl he didn't even like, freezing without a shirt. But the Brit also had a heart, and the sight of the whimpering American girl had his protective side in a hissy fit.

He awkwardly patted Desmond on the back. "Shush, now, you're fine. You're in your own room. It's the year twenty-twelve. You're Desmond Miles. You go by Desi. You're a twenty-six-year-old girl. You're here with Rebecca and Lucy and me." Shaun rambled off random facts, trying to get her to the present. One hand rested awkwardly on her hair while the other softly patted her back. He could feel every muscle in Desmond trying to gain control over her erratic breathing and trembling. They sat there, Shaun making no noise at all, for what felt like eternity before her breathing started to even out and the tremors stopped rocking her entire frame. She didn't relax the choking arms around his neck, though. Finally he broke the silence.

"Desmond, are you okay?" He asked quietly. There was a pause, and then Desmond nodded. She didn't move. Shaun sighed.

"Come on, now, let go." He made to push her off of him, but she tightened her hold on his neck even more, shaking her head rapidly. He tried again, saying, "Come off it, Desmond, I want to go to bed." Instead Desmond locked her arms in place, apparently refusing to let go.

"Don't," she whispered, fear and humiliation clear in her voice. "Don't make me let go. Please, Shaun. You don't understand." She buried her face deeper into the crook of her arm.

Shaun felt a pang for this girl through his irritation. He hadn't known her long, but he had definitely taken notice of the strength she seemed to rely on. He hadn't ever seen her show any kind of physical or emotional weakness. Now here she was, pleading with him not to leave her, not to abandon her to the nightmares again. She was at her most vulnerable, and she was asking him not to go. What else can I do?

Shaun patted her back again. "I won't, Desmond. I'll stay here." The girl seemed to radiate a sigh of relief, though she said nothing. After another stretch of eternity, Shaun was almost asleep when Desmond loosened her arms from around his neck. She slid away from him, about a foot, and even in the darkness Shaun could see the internal battle taking place on her face. She kept glancing at him, then shaking her head, only to do it again. Shaun stared at her for a few minutes.

"What do you want, Desmond?" His tone wasn't rude, but gentle. She looked at him for almost a minute before shaking her head.

"No, you need to get some sleep, Shaun. I'll be fine." Shaun noticed how she said you need to get some sleep, not we. She clearly wasn't planning on sleeping, and that wasn't going to help their mission.

"You need it as much as I do. What do you want?" Desmond looked at him warily before she scooted closer to him, their arms touching. She pulled the blanket up to her chin and said quietly, "I just can't be alone."

Shaun nodded, internally resolving to sleep on the hard, cold floor tonight. If his sitting here would keep her screams away, he would do it, if for no other reason than for his own sanity. It was a sad thing, watching this girl slowly lose hers. The hallucinations, the nightmares, the times when it was obvious she wasn't sure where or when she was, they all took a toll on her fragile hold on reality. It took a toll on the others, too, especially Rebecca and Lucy. They had formed a special bond with Desmond, and now they were all watching her slip away. It was hardest for Lucy, who had dealt with Subject 16. Shaun had heard about it from Lucy, and even he knew that Desmond was on the exact same path.

After a while, Desmond's head fell onto Shaun's shoulder, soft feminine snores slipping from her lips. Shaun took this as a sign that he could finally rest himself, and he was asleep in seconds.