This dream is different. Right away, Malik can tell that this dream is more… real than the ones he's been suffering through for his whole life. Those dreams have always had a ridiculous, nightmare quality to them. A field of corpses all with the same face is something that could only happen in a dream. They're surreal, and even when he wakes with the images burned across his mind's eye, Malik can at least remind himself that none of it is real.

But this dream is utterly, jarringly different. In his dreams, Malik is young, maybe twelve or thirteen years old. He can feel the hot summer sun, smell the sweat on his skin, taste the blood and dirt in his mouth as a fist slams into his face and he falls away from it and onto the hard ground.

Malik springs back to his feet with an agility he has never in his life possessed, and hits back as hard as he can. He doesn't know why, only that the movement feels right, and so do the next several blows, until his opponent is crumpled on the ground in front of him, gasping for breath and bleeding from a fresh cut across his mouth. But only a little- Malik's angry, but he knows they'll both be in trouble if they injure each other too badly.

"Malik…" a tiny voice behind him says, and Malik glances behind him to see him- the boy from his dreams, the one that's been killed in a million different ways across a thousand nights of dreaming. His eye is black and his knee is bleeding, but he's alive, and years younger than the corpses Malik is used to seeing, maybe seven or eight years old. But he only shakes his head, still angry, and turns back to the boy on the ground in front of him.

"Keep your hands off my brother," he says, in a voice that's too high and too young to be really intimidating. "If you go near Kadar again-"

"Let your brother fight his own battles," the boy says, and lashes out at Malik's legs so that he falls hard on his butt, and a second later the boy has his foot on Malik's chest, forcing him down.

"Get off me!" Malik yells. From this point of view, he can see the boy's face clearly, and he's barely even surprised to see a younger version of the man that's showed up in his dreams the last couple nights, the man who's invaded his waking life, the one who is apparently his soulmate.

"Nope." The boy grins in lazy triumph, and Malik feels his anger grow.

"Altair!"

-/-

With a monumental effort, Malik forces himself awake. He's panting like he's actually just been in a fight, and he has to touch his face to make sure it's not bleeding and bruised. There's no chance of him going back to sleep now, so he gets out of bed and wanders to the bathroom. The single light bulb casts a sickly yellow light, and Malik's face looks pale and ill as he examines it in the mirror over the sink.

"What's going on?" he demands of his reflection. "What's wrong with you?"

But the mirror- unsurprisingly- offers no answers, and so Malik turns his attention to figuring out what that dream was about. If it even was a dream. At the time, it had seemed as real as anything Malik's experienced while awake. And, thinking back on it now, it seems like a realmemory, of something that's really happened. It's like someone went digging around in his head and just... edited in an extra memory. He thinks back on his early teenage years, and there are all the memories he expects- the awkwardness of middle school and puberty and his first disastrous try at asking a girl out- and then right in the middle is the new memory from his dream, like it's always been in his head, like it's actually his memory and not some made up product of a mind he's starting to fear might actually be insane.

He decides he doesn't want to think about it, and looks around for something to distract himself with, and right on cue, notices that his circinus is dark against his skin. It's as dark as it was yesterday when he first saw his soulmate (Altair, the voice in the back of his mind whispers, but he ignores it because that's a name he heard in his dream and even if it really is the man's name, he doesn't want to know how he knew).

So that means- what? That the man is following him? That he's somewhere just outside the apartment or- God forbid- even somewhere inside the building? Malik shivers a little and curses. It's half past six in the morning, and already he can't imagine his day getting any worse than it already is.

-/-

Altair loiters near Malik's apartment for most of the night. It's a stupid thing to do and he knows it, but he can't stop himself. He keeps comparing the man in his memories to the man from yesterday, but it's a difficult task without any knowledge of this new Malik. Altair wants to know everything about him- who he is and what he does and why he does it. What he sees in his nightmares and what he hopes for in the future.

At a little after sunrise, Altair's phone rings. He thinks about ignoring it, but then sees it's Edward calling and doesn't. "Kind of early for you to be awake," he says, instead of hello. Edward is decidedly not a morning person.

"Well it's not like I was going to sleep last night anyway," Edward complains. "Not after what you told me yesterday." Altair sighs and tries to ignore the creeping feeling of guilt working its way through his mind. "I went by your place and you weren't there."

"I'm outside Malik's apartment," Altair says.

"Outside," Edward repeats. "So you haven't talked yet."

"No."

There's silence on the phone, apart from a slight crackle of static, then Edward says, "That's a little bit creepy. How long have you been there?"

"Not long," Altair lies. "I-" he looks down at the circinus on his arm. "I needed to get out and think."

Edward snorts. "You're obviously not thinking very well," he says. "Your friend's going to see his circinus and know you're there. What are you going to do when he files a restraining order on you?"

Altair opens his mouth to argue that Malik wouldn't do that, then closes it again because honestly there were times in their first life when he probably would have if they'd been invented yet. There's no reason this Malik wouldn't, especially if he doesn't know who Altair is. "Alright," he says instead. "I'm headed back to my apartment."

"I'll be here," Edward says. "I think we need to talk."

He hangs up, leaving Altair alone with his thoughts. For just a second, he thinks about staying anyway. Right now, all he wants in the world is for everything to be like it used to be. The memories of his first life feel stronger now than they ever have before, and Altair feels unexpectedly nostalgic, and desperate for anything familiar.

But the only familiar thing around is Malik, and he doesn't want anything to do with Altair.

So he walks home instead, where he finds Edward waiting in his tiny room. More specifically, Edward's curled up on his bed, apparently asleep. Altair hesitates in the doorway, not exactly sure whether to be upset that the man broke into his apartment, or amused to see him sleeping like a baby.

Edward stirs and opens his eyes, then sits up and makes a face. "Sorry," he says. "I told you I didn't sleep last night."

Altair shrugs. "Still having nightmares?"

"No, actually." Edward grins. "Normal dreams for the first time in my life."

"So you're okay with this?"

"I said I'm not having nightmares," says Edward. "Not that I'm okay. It's been, like, twelve hours since you flipped my life upside down. Give me a couple days to figure it out." He hesitates, apparently remembering something. "Maybe a week."

"Alright." Altair shrugs and decides to let the breaking and entering slide for now. "You said we need to talk?"

"Yea." Edward frowns, and his eyes grow suddenly serious. The expression looks out of place on his usually carefree face. "How did you do it?"

"Do... what?"

"So-" Edward jumps off the bed so he's on the same level as Altair. "I've been thinking a lot since yesterday. It's weird, you know? I spent years and years pretending all this was just bad dreams. Now that I know it's real, it's like I have all these memories that don't quite fit in my brain right and I keep remembering things, and it's like- that's not my memory, but then it is-"

"I know," Altair interrupts, because Edward's nervous rambling is hard to follow. "You get used to the memories."

Edward waves him away. "Actually that part's kind of cool," he says.

"You're the weirdest guy I've ever met."

"How do you deal with the people that are in both your lives?" Edward asks. "I keep remembering people from before, and then I realize they're in this life too, but they don't remember and I do. What do I say when I talk to them? How do I deal with that?"

"Oh." Altair sighs heavily. "Honestly, Malik is the first person from… last time that I've actually met here."

Edward makes a face. "And you're obviously handling that so well."

Altair doesn't argue, because he spent all of last night standing outside Malik's apartment. Instead he shrugs. "Let me know if you figure it out," he says.

Edward laughs, and the conversation moves on to the most obvious topic- who they used to be. Altair has to admit it's a relief to be able to share his memories of Masyaf with someone that won't think he's insane, and Edward can barely keep his own stories from pouring out. After a while, Altair sits back and lets Edward steer the conversation. Mostly, this is because Edward has all his memories back, but he hasn't had the chance to actually process most of them yet. It's funny to see him start telling a story, then look surprised when he finds out the ending.

Finally, Edward checks the time on his phone and makes a face. "I have to go," he says. "I'm meeting my advisor in half an hour and she was pretty clear that if I forget to go again I won't be able to register for classes next semester."

"Well she has been trying to meet with you for about a month," Altair points out.

"I'm bad with scheduling."

"Obviously," Altair says, and the two of them walk out of the apartment together- Altair has a standing policy of spending as little time as possible in his cramped, smelly apartment, and he has work he can do on campus anyway. They're about halfway there when a brigade of ambulances goes screaming by. It's not exactly an unusual sight in the city, and normally Altair would have barely spared them a glance.

This time, though, he happens to be glancing downwards, and he sees his circinus turn dark as the ambulances draw near, and the arrow swing around to follow as they speed past. Edward looks over at him when Altair stops moving, and the two of them stare at the mark as it slowly fades to a lighter color.

"I have to go," Altair says, and takes off running before Edward can say a word.