Author's Note: I'm totally obsessed with Assassin's Creed...Sigh. I've started an odd series of one-shots based on pictures I've found on DeviantArt. This particular fanfiction was inspired by doubleleaf's picture "While You Were Sleeping"
(Copy this link without spaces to see it - http:/doubleleaf. deviantart. com/gallery/?q=While+You+Were+Sleeping#/d2eb0qe )
DISCLAIMER: ASSASSIN'S CREED AND IT'S CHARACTERS ARE PROPERTY OF UBISOFT. IF IT BELONGED TO ME...KADAR WOULD HAVE LIVED!
While You Were Sleeping
"Kadar…,"
The wounded assassin lay on his back, eyes clenched in pain from the light. His head was pounding and all he could feel was pain. Heat rushed over him in waves. Malik did not know how long it had been since the Templar's attack. He didn't know how long it had been since his brother died. He didn't know how long it had been since they had taken his arm. The man was sure that days had passed, but he couldn't really be sure of anything.
Chills racked his body as he fought the fever that had taken hold of him. He drifted in and out of consciousness. When he woke, all he could feel was pain. When he slept, nightmares haunted him.
He thought he even felt a presence near him, but sometimes Malik just guessed it was Death. He waited for the reaper to take him, to let him be with his brother once again. He wanted to give up, let his body die. Kadar was waiting for him on the other side.
"Is he still with us?"
The Novice looked up at Altair with a mixture of admiration and loathing. The poor kid couldn't make up his mind on how he wanted to feel. The former Master could only wish that the result was loathing. He deserved much worse. The boy nodded and Altair strode past.
Malik was sprawled out on the feather mattress, half wrapped in his bed sheet. Looking at where his friend's arm should have been, Altair felt an invisible knife wrench through his gut. His stupidity and arrogance had brought only pain to those he called 'Brothers'. And he knew it. The assassin sighed, placing the bowl of water in his arms on the wooden table along with some fresh bandages.
Altair started unraveling the soiled bandages covering the man's stump of an arm. Blood still seeped from the wound and there was still a high risk of infection. The assassin paused, observing Malik. Sweat covered the man's brow and shivers racked his entire body. Altair bit his lip angrily. emGod, forgive me. What have I done? /em
He sighed, examining the bloody stump with careful hands. As far as he could tell, it would heal. If Malik didn't die of fever first. Altair couldn't believe the damage that he had done. Here he was trying to save a man who probably didn't want to be saved. A man who, if he did survive, would hate him for the rest of his life and probably into eternity as well. Altair knew that and he didn't care. Malik was still his friend, and he deserved every angry retort that Malik could throw.
He would have said he deserved a knife through the heart if that could make up for the pain he had caused. But nothing would bring Kadar back. Nothing would bring back Malik's arm. Killing him would only bring him peace…it would be a gift, not a punishment.
Throwing the soiled bandages to the side, Altair preceded to wash the wound. This elicited a pained groan from the semiconscious man. His hand clenched tightly to the sheet. The working assassin looked up to see if Malik had broken past the haze. Disappointment and relief fled through Altair when he realized that his friend was only partially awake. He didn't know how Malik would react to seeing him tending to his wounds. The wounds that he had caused.
"Good to see your still somewhat aware of your surroundings," Altair mumbled, beginning to rewrap the stump.
"Kadar…?"
Mid-wrap, Altair froze. He looked to Malik, wondering what terrible nightmare his Brother was experiencing. He was surprised when the other man's hand started searching the sheet. Tears welled up in Altair's eyes. He felt his entire world shatter around him. The new rules he had to follow, the embarrassing demotion to Novice, the anger he would have to face from his fellow brothers, Malik's likely hatred. All of it crushed down on him and he realized all his flaws. He bit back his tears as he finished wrapping the last of the bandages around the wound.
"Kadar? Is that…is that you?"
Altair couldn't keep them back. Teardrops rolled down his face, mixing with the bloody water as he washed his hands.
"I know you're there Kadar!"
Silent sobs shuddered through Altair's body as he found Malik's hand and gripped it tightly.
"Sleep Malik," the assassin replied, softly.
"You sleep!" Malik slurred, playfully.
A smile crept onto the wounded man's face and Altair felt uninhibited tears pour down his cheeks.
"Forgive me, Brother,"
