Desmond, Lucy, Altair, and Ezio had all been herded into Desmond's father's office by his mother, and left there to wait while she tracked down her husband. It took a while. After the templar attack, it was clear the assassins were no longer safe where they were, and William Miles was overseeing the evacuation.

Desmond was nursing a black eye, but otherwise he felt fine. The team that had been sent in to retrieve Connor had been quick, clean, and efficient, coming up on their quarry while his back was turned and knocking him out before he could fight back. Desmond had been out of the room, only coming back in time to receive the black eye as a parting gift from the last templar to leave.

He'd related the story quickly when the other three came in, then asked, "What are you two even doing here?"

"Ezio." Altair's answer was very nearly a growl.

"He told your mom," said Lucy.

Desmond winced. "How much?"

"Enough," said Altair.

"Why would you do that?" he asked Ezio.

"If anyone's going after Connor, it should be us," said Ezio, unapologeticaly.

"He's right," Lucy said grudgingly, and not even Altair argued, though he still looked angry.

The door opened then, and both of Desmond's parents came in.

"Dad-" Desmond started, but his father hushed him.

"Not now, Desmond." He pointed at Ezio. "You. Explain."

Ezio launched into a long winded and rambling account of his own life, both in his original time and the current one. When he had finished, Altair added his own history, much more succinctly. Lucy went next, skipping awkwardly over her time with Abstergo. It was probably a good move, Desmond thought- this exact moment was not the best to mention she had once been a templar. It would have to come out at some point, when everyone was calmer. He could see by the look in her eyes that his mother had not missed the omission.

"And you?" his father turned on Desmond when Lucy had finished her story.

"Well I'm also from the future..."

"And?"

"When I was sixteen, I ran away from the Farm and ended up living in New York, tending bar, until I was 25. That's when the templars found me. They kidnapped me and I spent the next few months stuck in an animus."

"You've been in an animus." His father's tone was flat.

"Yea."

"Why? What's so special about you?"

"Wow, thanks," said Desmond.

His father closed his eyes and breathed deeply in an obvious attempt to stay calm. "Fine," he said. "What makes your ancestors so special."

"Wow, thanks," Ezio interrupted. Desmond could have sworn he heard a little snort of laughter from Altair, but when he glanced over at the assassin, his face was completely composed.

"Desmond..."

"I'm descended from Altair Ibn-La'Ahad-" he pointed at Altair, "And Ezio Auditore-"

"Da Firenze," Ezio interrupted.

"I was getting there," said Desmond.

"Just making sure."

"It's not my fault your name's ten miles long." He turned back to his father. "And Connor's an ancestor too."

"He has a boring name," said Ezio, interrupting again.

"Ratonhnhake:ton is boring?" Lucy asked.

"Can't you ever be serious?" Altair asked.

"...maybe."

Desmond glanced at his parents, and felt a stab of something like guilt pass through him. This wouldn't be the easiest of stories to believe at the best of times, but between Connor's kidnapping and Ezio's... Ezio-ness, it would have been even harder.

"Desmond," his father said at last. "Is this all true?"

"Yes."

He took a deep breath. "I think I'm going to need a minute."

-/-

Two days later, a team of twelve assassins- Desmond, both his parents, his two ancestors, Lucy, and six others selected for their experiences or skill sets- were headed to Abstergo headquarters in Italy. On the plane ride there, Desmond found himself wedged into a row of seats between his father and Altair.

For the first half of the flight- to Desmond's relief- nobody spoke. Then his father said, without looking at either of them: "So. You've been inside his memories."

"Yep."

"How did that-"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Well clearly," said his father. "Since you didn't even tell us about this until you absolutely had to, when Connor's life was in danger."

"I still didn't want to tell you," said Desmond, his temper starting to flare up. "It's Ezio that can't keep his mouth shut."

The conversation died there, leaving Desmond to his own thoughts and a nagging, unwanted, sense of guilt. He didn't need this. Not on top of everything else he had to worry about. But every time his father opened his mouth, Desmond couldn't help but think that the William Miles he had spent months with in New York, the one that had been at his side while he was in a coma, the one he had risked everything to save from Vidic- he was gone. Abandoned to a future that seemed more unlikely with every change made to the timeline.

It wasn't fair to compare the two versions of his father. But then, neither was life.

-/-

And this is a chapter that wound up being way shorter than I expected it to be. Apologies.