Desmond woke up four hours later after a dreamless sleep; a few beams of sun hitting him smack dab in the middle of the face. He was alone in his small, cramped room, lying on top of his unmade cot. He could hear soft footsteps just on the other side of the building's thin wall. Shaun, Rebecca, and Lucy were still awake, and were whispering softly as if not to disturb him. They sounded anxious. Desmond wasn't surprised, knowing he must have scared them shitless when he passed out.
Desmond noticed that he had an old quilt wrapped around him. It was most likely one of Lucy's. He felt like he was baking in an oven; he was sweating profusely and had to get out of the quilt as soon as possible. The assassin sat up and tore the patchwork quilt off and to his side. It was then that he noticed that someone had undressed him and had bound his damaged side with gauze. He wasn't bleeding, but Desmond knew that the gauze was there to hold his broken ribs in place.
He wondered if the pain was causing him to sweat so much. It certainly wasn't the quilt that had; after he threw the quilt off, he seemed to sweat even more. Desmond stood up and stiffly walked towards a window, opened it, and then sat back down on his bed. Even with the cool breeze, there wasn't much of a change. Desmond wiped the sweat off of his forehead, but stopped abruptly when he saw bruises covering his entire forearm.
It was like a wave had hit him. All the memories of last night swept through him, and then he realized why he was sweating so much.
He was still terrified about the man that had attacked him last night. Even when he was sleeping, the man plagued him in his dreams. Throughout the night, Desmond dreamt that he had been slowly butchered by the monster with his blade-hand. Just the thought of it sent the assassin shuddering with chills, only to be followed by a cold sweat.
Desmond instantly looked for any signs of impending danger, and he found himself backing away from the open window. Suddenly, a car's alarm ran off from the street below and Desmond flinched, falling off of the bed and onto the building's ancient wooden floor. As soon as he hit the floor, the whole room rattled, startling the other assassins in the room next door. Desmond didn't notice their reaction because his heart was pounding his eardrums out.
There was a soft knock on his door. Desmond glanced at the door, terror masking his face, and saw Lucy peeking in. Her face was tired, and she frowned when she saw that Desmond wasn't in a better shape than last night. She still had no idea what had happened to him, and he knew that she was expecting the worst.
Her worst was so much better than the truth.
"Desmond? Can you come join us at the table now that you're awake? We need to ask you a few questions." Lucy whispered. Desmond instantly nodded and stood up. Lucy watched as he struggled to walk forward, sucking in a deep breath with each movement, and bit her lip to stay silent. But after a few seconds, it was too much. "Please, sit back down. We'll come in."
Desmond shrugged and limped back to the side of his bed. Lucy disappeared for a couple seconds, but returned with both Shaun and Rebecca. The other assassins remained standing and watched Desmond struggle back to a comfortable position. They waited until he was ready to begin. Desmond nodded when he was ready.
"Okay. Desmond, what the hell happened to you?" Lucy asked before Shaun could open his mouth. "We tried to get a hold of you all last night. And then you just showed up, almost dead from exhaustion and your left side practically crushed."
Desmond chewed on his bottom lip. He was ready to tell them, but he wasn't sure if they were ready to believe him. The other three assassins waited impatiently for him to spill the beans. Finally, Shaun lost his patience and coughed to get Desmond's attention. Desmond glowered at the Brit before sucking in a deep breath.
"I was attacked." Desmond muttered hesitantly. He continued before Lucy could ask by whom. "By some creepy guy. At least, I thought that it was a guy, until—"
"Until what?" Rebecca interrupted, confused and intrigued at the same time.
"Until his arm turned into a fucking knife!" Desmond snapped, his voice catching everyone off guard. His outburst was met with an awkward silence. He saw that his friends were giving him weird looks as if to question his sanity. Desmond knew he sounded crazy, and if he was them, he wouldn't believe what he was saying either. "I'm not making this up. His entire arm transformed into a big knife and he threatened to carve my innards out with it."
The room was still after Desmond's outbreak. Shaun thought that his colleague finally went insane, like Subject 16, and would have to be turned into a mental institute for his own good. Rebecca's thoughts perfectly mirrored Shaun's. Lucy didn't know what to think.
"Des, I don't think . . ." Rebecca tried to find the right words, but came up with nothing. She shared an uneasy glance with Shaun before shifting her weight distribution to her other foot, clearly showing that she was nervous. "I mean, are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm fucking sure that a monster tried killed me."
A second passed, and then Shaun sighed heavily. He took a pen and his small notepad out of his pocket and looked at it hesitantly. He walked towards Desmond and gave him the pen and notepad. Desmond observed the items in his hands before making a face of confusion. Shaun stared at him, expectantly.
"Well? Draw the damn man." Shaun ordered. "If you want me to believe you, which I probably won't anyways, I need to see him."
After a long pause, Desmond grumbled and took the cap off of the pen. Desmond wasn't very artistic, and any rendition done by him would give Shaun yet another reason for him to laugh in his face. Still, Desmond didn't have much of a choice unless he wanted to be dubbed mentally insane by his friends. Quickly, Desmond sketched the man on a small, clean sheet of notepad.
"He wore a leather jacket that had a couple white stripes on the sleeves, and he had a brown hoodie under it. It looked like he wore another shirt under that, but I'm not that sure." Desmond stated as he tried to draw the torso of the man. He gave up on the jacket and then worked on the arm that had transformed into a knife "And he had the coldest eyes ever…"
Finally, after a couple minutes of useless sketching, Desmond finished with his poorly drawn outline of the monster. He was actually impressed on how it turned out despite not attempting to draw his face or legs after halfway through it. He handed over to Rebecca, who studied it quickly with Shaun peering over her shoulders. Her eyes widened after a couple seconds as something had caught her attention. The gears in her head were already turning.
"Hang on a sec. I've seen this guy before." Rebecca muttered as she pushed some of her black hair behind her ears. She showed Lucy and Desmond the picture before shoving it into her pocket. "It's somewhere on the internet. It'll take me a while to find it, but I'll call you as soon as I do."
"Call?" Desmond asked, confused.
Lucy nodded. "Desmond, you've almost been killed. We need to get you checked out by a doctor to make sure that you aren't bleeding eternally. Now that you're up, Shaun and I are escorting you to the nearest hospital."
"Um, isn't that kind of a dumb thing to do?" Desmond pointed out. He rubbed his sides as he spoke unconsciously, but the other assassins noticed it. "Wouldn't we be walking right into a trap? I'm sure Abstergo controls every hospital in the area. And wouldn't giving ourselves to the Templars be a bad idea?"
"Wouldn't almost dying at the hands of a made up monster be a bad idea?" Shaun retorted; he was still clearly furious at Desmond.
Desmond stared at Lucy, then Shaun, and then at Rebecca as she went to her desk and typed away on her computer. He could already hear her typing feverishly at an insane speed. He rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. He nodded, knowing that they weren't in the best of circumstances after his little incident. And he had put them there with his recklessness. Understanding that he wasn't in the best shape, he needed to know what bones had been broken and where as soon as possible.
"Fine, let's go." Desmond muttered.
Alex walked down the street, head down and hands in his hoodie's pockets. A couple people pushed past him, and he resisted the urge to throttle them. It was taking all of his will power not to throw the next person that walked into him into the Hudson River, which was a couple blocks away from where he was walking. Thankfully, his glum attitude and natural predator-like nature kept the humans at bay.
He did not like the day, he felt like he was giving away his position for any Blackwatch who might've been nearby. But Blackwatch was gone and he couldn't sulk up on the rooftops until nighttime. Even if he could, he wouldn't do it today. Today was a special day and he wouldn't miss it even if the world was ending.
Today was visiting hours.
Alex checked to see if the wallet he stole from a previous victim was still there. He breathed in a sigh of relief as he felt the weight of the green papers in his pocket. The last time he checked, there was over two hundred dollars rolled up in the wallet. That would be enough.
Alex looked up to see if he was close to his first stop. His cold heart, if he actually had one, warmed a little when he saw the little green sign in a window that sprawled out Adrianne's Bouquets and Flower Arrangements.Every couple weeks Alex came to this store, and he had actually gotten well acquainted with the store's sole worker, Adrianne. She was a nice girl and wanted to bring happiness to others through her flowers, and Alex respected that.
But that didn't mean that he cared for her.
Alex walked into the shop, a wave of heat hitting him. The door chimed as it opened, and Adrianne's head poked out from the back. She recognized Alex and smiled. He waved stiffly and stood by the counter. Adrianne motioned for him to wait a second longer and disappeared back into the back room. A couple minutes passed, and Adrianne came back with a vase of flowers.
Adrianne was a young girl from Ohio, probably around her early to mid-twenties. She had short blond hair and always wore a sunhat that was too big. She usually wore a green apron over a t-shirt with a band logo on it, blue jeans, and a pair of red Converse. She was innocent, and didn't have any clue that one of her usual customers was a genetically engineered sociopathic killer. She was nice to everybody, even those who weren't nice in return. Adrianne even admitted once to Alex that she was a high school dropout, and that she was slightly embarrassed by that fact.
"Hello, Alex. I didn't expect to see you again until next Thursday." Adrianne stated as she walked past the man and set the vase on the display counter. She quickly went back behind the cash register and opened it up, ready to take his order. "I don't even have your order ready."
"Sorry I didn't call you, but they changed the visiting hours at the last minute." Alex said as he watched the young girl at work, his voice low and unfriendly. When she looked up at him, he dropped his gaze. "Can you make a rush order? I'll pay double for your inconvenience."
Adrianne sighed and thought for a moment. Finally she nodded and disappeared again. Alex was left waiting at the counter, money in hands, for his flower arrangement to be prepared.
"The usual, right?" Adrianne shouted from the back.
"Yeah, the one with the stuffed animal." Alex shouted back as he leaned against the counter. This would take a while, so why not get comfortable. He couldn't help but give off a soft, weak chuckle; he could never get comfortable with a human nearby.
"Help yourself to a soda, Alex. It's on the house." Adrianne shouted after a couple minutes of silence.
Alex thought for a second. It would be smart for him to take a soda. If he didn't, Adrianne would notice that something was off from him. Although somewhat comfortable with the girl, Alex was still careful not to give himself away. But he wouldn't drink the soda. He could still eat and drink human food once in a while, but it sickened the virus every time.
He decided to take a can, but wouldn't drink it. He'd say that he was saving it for later. Alex walked towards the shop's cooler and plucked a Coke off of the shelf. He put it in his pocket and continued to wait for his order to arrive.
Fifteen minutes later, Adrianne came out with Alex's order. It was a pale basket full of flowers, most of them purple in color. Inside the flowers was a small, stuffed cat, identical to the other ones from before. Alex wasn't an expert on flowers and couldn't name them by heart. He only faintly remembered Adrianne saying that his usual consisted of white roses, purple daises, and purple chrysanthemums, whatever those names meant.
Adrianne handed Alex the flower arrangement and he graciously took it by the handle. He inspected it and nodded to show that he was content with her fast work. She nodded back, knowing that even for a rush job, she did a damn good job.
"Well, your usual arrangement costs fifty dollars, so that'll a hundred." Adrianne stated as she opened up the cash register. Alex gave her the money he owed her and turned around to leave. He didn't wave goodbye, and was stopped when she called after him. "Hey, I've making those for over a year. When are you finally going to tell me who those are for?"
Alex just shook his head and left. Adrianne sighed and crept back to the rear of her shop.
He walked down the street towards his final destination: the hospital. When he finally arrived, he walked past the secretary on duty and ignored her questions about where he was going. Alex headed for the elevator, finally away from the annoying secretary, and pressed the button for the seventh floor. He waited in silence until the door opened, and he exited immediately.
Just down the hall, and the last room on the right, was where his sister was being held. Dana had been there ever since the outbreak was fully neutralized, and Alex had visited her twice every month with the same gift every time. She had made almost no progress, but Alex had remained hopeful that she would regain consciousness sometime soon. He even remained hopeful after years passed with no signs of progress.
Alex entered her room and stopped to stare at his younger sister. She hadn't changed from last week. Dana was still in a mint green medical gown, eyes closed and tucked under a thin, starch blanket. An IV was injected into her left arm, and her medical bracelet was around that arm's wrist. Dana's cardiac monitor was beeping steadily and at the same rate from his last visit.
Alex walked over towards Dana. He placed the flowers on the table next to her medical cot and positioned perfectly so it would be the first thing she saw if she woke up. When she woke up. A couple petals from last week's arrangement had remained on the table, and Alex swiped them off and they fell to the ground.
The virus returned his attention to his comatose sister. Her hair looked dirty and unhealthy, and was badly in need of a trim. She looked skinny and frail as if she wasn't getting enough nutrients through her IV, which was probably true. But what startled him the most every time he visited her was how pale her skin was. It was almost as pale as his skin, and that scared Alex. The only reason why his skin was so pale was because this body had been dead for hours, which was long enough for the bodies' temperature to dramatically drop, and his skin hadn't returned to its normal color since.
"Hey Dana." Alex greeted his sister. "How are you feeling?"
He didn't receive an answer, which was expected. So instead, Alex sat down on a plastic chair and watched his sister, still overprotective of her. Even with Dana in good hands, Alex didn't trust the doctors. The only reason why he had permitted Dana to reside in the hospital was because Ragland had advised him to do so. Now he was only allowed to see Dana a couple hours every other week, and Alex wasn't happy about that.
"I feel the same as last time." Alex continued, starting a conversation with himself. "Nothing that unusual happening in my life at the moment. The only thing interesting was that I ran into a man who had the guts to attack me. I let him get away, probably because that's what you would've wanted me to do. Though I think I freaked him out a bit."
His remark was met with the beeping of the cardiac monitor.
"No idea who he was, but he impressed me. Reminded me a bit of Cross with his initial determination, except he didn't look like military scum. Didn't act like military scum, either." Alex stated, thinking about his short tussle from last night. He enjoyed it, and the sight of the man's suffering had made it even better for him. "He did well defending himself, but like most humans, he lost his concentration. And that's when I got the upper hand."
A second passed, and Alex lost his train of thought. Only one thing came to his mind.
"Man, I miss you like hell, Dana." Alex whispered. He kept his eyes down on the floor tiles, trying to pick out the discrepancies between each tile. His permanent scowl was softened and it turned more sad than irritated. "Get better soon, okay kid?"
"You may not have that long to wait, Alex." A voice by the door said.
Alex looked up to see that Ragland was standing at the doorway. He looked unrecognizable without his green medical robe over his clothes. But Alex knew that this was the mortician that he trusted with both his and his sister's lives. Since the end of the outbreak, Ragland had retired and now resided alone in Brooklyn. The doctor did, however, visit Dana as much as possible because he knew how much the virus cared for her.
"What?" Alex asked, his voice strong and demanding. "What do you mean by that?"
Ragland stepped further into Dana's room, keeping an eye on the virus. Even though Ragland had worked with the Blacklight virus, he didn't necessarily trust him. After living through an apocalypse, Ragland had trouble trusting anybody. He was only helping Alex out for the virus's own sanity. The last thing Manhattan needed was another unstable, psychotic Runner.
"What I mean, Alex is that she's becoming more responsive with her treatments." Ragland stated as stopped at the foot of Dana's bed. He picked up Dana's charts from there and tossed it to Alex. Alex expertly caught it and looked at them for a brief second. The original Alex Mercer could read this without any trouble, but the virus's head was spinning too much for him to comprehend the data on the charts. There was just too much going on; he couldn't even comprehend Ragland's following words. "I've talked with her doctors. They switched her medication in hopes of a different result, and despite all the odds, it was successful. They believe that she'll regain consciousness within the month."
Alex was speechless. For years, he had been waiting for those words. And now, they were being offered to him on a silver platter. Alex frowned; nothing ever came that easily to him.
"What's the catch, Ragland?" The virus forced himself to ask.
The retired mortician sighed and rubbed his bald head. Alex stiffened and waited impatiently for the answer he didn't want to know. A couple seconds passed, and Alex couldn't take it. He started to scratch his head, one of his nervous habits, and forced his hood to fall down.
"There's a slight chance that her heart will give out before she is given the final dosage. But the chance is almost negligible. It's honestly something that you don't have to fret about." Ragland said confidently, pushing his glasses up. "If she's anything like you, she'll survive."
Alex stood up and eyed the mortician suspiciously. The man's choice of words did not soothe the virus. Alex let a small growl escape as he backed up towards the room's open window.
"That's just the thing, Doc. She's not like me." Alex grumbled. He gave Dana one last glance before returning his glare at Ragland. "Excuse me. I need to do some research on someone."
And with that, Alex jumped through the open window. Ragland ran to see where the Blacklight virus had ran off to, but he was already out of sight. Ragland furrowed his eyebrows; he was relieved that Alex was gone, but his parting words didn't settle on him. Ragland turned to look at the flowers that Alex had brought and saw the toy cat stuck between the flowers. Without thinking, the mortician plucked the toy cat out of the flowers and put it on Dana's pillow next to her head, hopefully to comfort the woman.
And with that, Ragland left the girl alone. He headed back towards the elevators, knowing that his time here had been used up. He had just been the messenger, and he had delivered the message. Now he wasn't needed by Alex, his job was done. He had the rest of his life to live in peace.
Ragland patiently waited for the elevator to reach his current floor. After a couple minutes, the elevator's doors finally opened, revealing two men and a young woman. The man in a white hoodie looked to be injured, for he was gasping in pain with each step, and Ragland silently prayed for him as he limped out of the elevator. The other two helped the poor man as he headed towards an empty room, where a nurse was waiting for him patiently.
"Good lord man, were you hit by a truck?" Ragland asked the limping man.
The hooded man chuckled, but stopped when the pain was too much. Ragland's heart stopped for the man. Whatever the man had been put through had also scared him out of his wits. A man could only take so much pain and fear, and it seemed that this man had already gone through too much.
"Sure feels like it, that's for sure." The hooded man said jokingly as he passed the mortician. "Just keep an eye out during rush hour and you'll be fine."
Ragland was positive that the man was hiding something from him, and whatever it was terrified the poor man.
Hey guys, I'd just like to say thanks for reading, reviewing, and for the support. I love reviews and I'll try to reply to them all, but I have quite a bad memory and somehow I'll probably forget. Sorry, it's just how my brain works. And while talking about my brain, there's probably a lot of grammar issues up there. Once again, sorry, grammar is just not my forte.
Thanks once again.
