A/N: No song! Yay?

Wow, who would've known that life is so short? Never take a day for granted because you never know what you've got until you lost it.

Rest In Paradise T.D.

Disclaimer: I do not own Altaïr, (or any other products) but I however do own all thoughts, OCs, and ideas that will be held within this story.

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"Questions?" She gulped. In her mind questions always lead to unwanted information, information that others did not really need to know, and most of all, it was just awkward. "Yes. Questions. We feel that it is only fair for you to answer ours, seeing as how we risk our own security by bringing your battered body inside here." Natasha's lip curled in distaste. "Fine. I'll answer your questions but don't expect them to be honest." "Well if we should expect lies for an answer, you should kindly expect a blade lodged in your lifeless body." Natasha narrowed her eyes at Altaïr, wondering as to why his solution to everything was to threaten death. "I shall be the first to question then." It was Altaïr who spoke again.

"What happened that would cause scars to swathe your body?" "Don't worry abou-" Her sentence was cut short as she heard the hidden blade slide forth. "Oh this is so not fair." "Answer." "I'm a cutter." She held up a finger to silence his question. "I did this, I would cut my own skin to help me through harder times." Malik tilted his head and muttered, "This child is not right in the head." Altaïr's hood hid his questioning gaze, but Natasha could almost feel his eyes boring into her. "If I don't have a knife, then I used my nails, which explains the freshest set." At last the man seemed satisfied.

It was Malik's turn. "Where do you hail from?" It took a while before Natasha could figure out what he meant and then she shrugged. "It depends on what your definition of home is I s'ppose." "In that case, where is you home?" "Wherever I can lay my head without danger." Malik's eyebrows arched, "What country do you come from then?" Natasha ignored the fact that he had asked two questions, not one, and proceeded to answer. "I was born in Russia, Smolensk to be more specific." The men tilted their heads. "It's far, far away from here I guess."

Back to Altaïr. "How did you get here?" She rubbed the back of her head. "Ehh, I don't really know, the last thing I remember was being in the Animus, pain and then I was here." "Animus?" "I don't know how to explain it, it's some weird contraption doohickey." She looked at them both. "My turn. What year is it, and were am I?" "You are in Jerusalem. The year is 1191 A.D." Her eyes widened, "Good god." Noticing their expressions, she stated. "I'm from 2013 A.D." It was their turn to be properly startled.

The questioning session continued for quite some time, and Natasha grudgingly told them more about herself as well as her history, explaining in depth when one of them would tilt their head or raise their eyebrows.

And then the fateful question came. "So what do you guys do? I mean, Mister Death Threat over here has got waaay too many weapons to be some average Joe." The tension came back, this time Natasha was almost sure that it was solid. "Eerrrrrr, wrong question, forgive me." Neither of the men seemed to forgiving, but it was Malik who spoke, rather softly at that. "Hashshashin." It went in cycles, of who would be confused, and now it was Natasha's turn, again. The one armed man clarified. "Assassins." Her mouth formed a small "o" as it started to click into place. "Well that explains pretty much everything…" Tucking her legs underneath her, Natasha slowly got to her knees and then stood shakily. "So uhm…what am I supposed to do?" "Live like the others." "Let me rephrase that. I have no clue how to live like your people, so could you possibly give tips and tricks? Y'know, a few pointers?" "Perhaps later, but now the night comes, and we must retire to bed." "Ohh…can I stay here for the night? If not I'll find somewhere else to stay, it doesn't really matter." Malik nodded, it was his place to say if she could stay or not. He sighed and tapped on the table. "It would be a major risk to our safety to allow you to stay here in case someone was after you." Natasha nodded, understanding, "Well, in that case, peace out girl scout!" She said, faking the joy and smile that was on her face. It wasn't until she was out of the room that she realized she would have to climb back up the wall to get out. Mentally preparing herself, she hopped up onto the small fountain like thing and scrambled to hook her fingers on one of the ridges as she stepped up.

Malik and Altaïr watched the injured girl and her attempt to climb, and something inside of Malik softened. "Child, come down from there, you'll only injure yourself further." He stepped forward and aided the girl in lowering herself back to the ground. "You can sleep out here." She nodded "But what about that?" She motioned upwards towards the lattice top with the wide opening when her words failed her. "It will be left open, fear not, the only ones who come through that are fellow brothers." Natasha nodded, feeling stupid all of a sudden. "Of course there would be others!" She mentally chided herself as she glanced at the small pile of pillows against the wall. "Well, it's better than nothing, or the floor," she murmured, stepping in that direction.

It didn't take long for Natasha to get comfortable. She had shoved most of the pillows out of the way, only using one of them to rest her head upon. The cool fabric was comforting, but it only reminded her of home. She rolled from her side onto her back to stare up at the sky and marvel at how many stars were visible. There was a gentle breeze now, the cool air caressing her skin causing her to smile. It didn't take much longer for her to sleep into a blissful sleep.

Altaïr and Malik continued to discuss things as Natasha slept the night away. "What are we to do with her?" "As I said before, she will lead a new life here." "Brother, do you really think she can adapt that easily? She comes from different places all together!" Altaïr looked at Malik, his voice lowered, "I do not know brother, but something tells me to trust her and to try." The whimpers that Natasha produced attracted the attention of the men rather quickly. As they peered outside to see her sleeping form sprawled out on the ground, her jaw muscles clenching and unclenching repeatedly. Altaïr's eyebrows rose as he studied the sleeping girl before glancing back at Malik. "It seems she is a troubled sleeper," the one armed man commented dryly. Altaïr snorted softly, "Indeed." He cast another glance back at Natasha and all the discarded pillows that were strewn about before walking over to gather a few in his arms. She had claimed his sleeping spot, but there was still plenty more room in other places. In a few quick seconds, Altaïr had made his makeshift bed and promptly fell asleep.

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The sun still had hours to rise by the time Altaïr had arisen, duly noting that at some point during the night, Natasha had scooted over in his direction by at least several inches. He shrugged it off, knowing that most people most likely did move around in their sleep. From the quiet rustlings coming from the other room, Altaïr knew that Malik was already wide awake and proceeding with his daily routine. Stretching his limbs Altaïr made his way over to the doorway to observe Malik, who was busy making his maps. "Ah brother, you have woken. I began to wonder," Malik commented wryly without even needing to glance up at the assassin that stood silently in the doorframe. Bracing his one hand mere inches away from the new map, Malik spoke once more. "Perhaps you should continue gathering the necessary information for your mark, Talal." Altaïr nodded in understanding before leaving the room. Upon climbing the wall to exit the Bureau he cast one last glance at the sleeping girl and a smile tugged at his lips and then he vanished.

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The rising sun had painted the few clouds a heavenly pink and orange long before Natasha finally awoke. By now the sun was high in the sky, glaring down upon the people of the city. Rolling to her side, Natasha laboriously got to her feet, stumbling towards the doorway in a state of confusion. After nearly faceplanting into the doorframe, Natasha finally managed to get a grip with her left hand causing her knuckles to slowly turn white. Eyes that were heavy with sleep looked at Malik, who was trying not to scowl at the girl. "Mmfff good morning," her voice was raspy and it was clear that she just woke up. Natasha rubbed her eyes furiously and looked around sleepily, "Where's Altaïr?" Her question was ended with a yawn. Malik looked at the tired girl before speaking, "He went to take care of some of his business." Natasha grunted in acknowledgement, the man did have a life after all. Even though she had slept for a good number of hours, Natasha could not shake the feeling of fatigue. Plopping ungracefully onto the floor, Natasha crossed her legs and braced her back against the wall. Her head felt fuzzy, every inch of her body ached and her mind slowly began to drift off towards thoughts of sleep. But even as fatigued as she was, Natasha couldn't just doze off. Instead she just sat, staring blankly at the world around her. As she stared off into space, Natasha began having a silent conversation with herself. "When was the last time you ate?" "Probably like a day or more ago, I think." "Why aren't you hungry?" "I'm just not." "Do you have your medication?" "No…" She let out a weak sigh, "Well that explains everything…" Without her medication, Natasha wasn't sure what would happen. There hadn't been a recent time where she stopped taking her depression and bipolar medication, and now she feared what would happen, not only to herself but to the people that surrounded her.

She must have dozed off for a while because when she opened her eyes again, the sun had passed its peak and was slowly sinking back towards the horizon. That wasn't her only clue to how long she slept, seeing as how Altaïr was back, and quietly discussing things with Malik. Neither of the two men seemed especially pleased with each other. Their heads snapped around upon hearing the angry rumble of Natasha's empty stomach that she had tried unsuccessfully to silence. "Eheh…hi guys…" she managed to stammer out, her cheeks flushing a rosy red color. Malik snorted, "The clamor of the bells failed to wake her, yet an empty stomach would, curious." She glared at him and there was a multitude of popping sounds that came from her joints as Natasha rose to her feet and stretched the sleep from her bones. Looking at Altaïr she spoke again, "Can you teach me to live? As the people of this city do?" She only received a grunt in response, which she translated as "tomorrow". "Fine, but you had best keep your word mister." Another grunt.

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A/N: My apologies for a very short chapter, but I can't focus on things right now. Please bear with me.